


Hey, Brother

by JenKristo



Category: Onward (2020)
Genre: Explicit Sex, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, Takes place after the film
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:08:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23496550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenKristo/pseuds/JenKristo
Summary: Ian's feelings for Barley have developed slowly but deeply, and getting a boyfriend who reminds him of his brother was just not enough. When Ian gets tipsy and accidentally tells Barley the truth, Barley has to come to terms with his newly blossoming attraction.
Relationships: Barley Lightfoot/Ian Lightfoot
Comments: 369
Kudos: 392





	1. The Gentleman Lover

Ian sat at his desk, staring at the mess of spell books and notes spread out in front of him. But he wasn’t really looking. Behind him, Barley was pacing with agitation. “You’ve got to talk to me, Ian,” his brother said. He stopped short. “I have tried to be patient. Really, I’ve tried. I’ve tried giving you space, I’ve been hoping you’d come to me on your own, but I can’t take it anymore. Please. Tell me what’s going on! Are you mad at me? Did I do something?”   
  
Finally Ian turned around, swiveling in his desk chair. He couldn’t let Barley feel that way. Gently he said, “No, man, of course not.” He pleaded with his eyes for Barley to let it go, but otherwise, his expression was a mask. He opened his mouth, but there was nothing he could think of to say.   


“Ian.” Barley came closer, standing beside his desk. He bent down on one knee to look at Ian at eye-level, his large hands closing over his brother’s slender ones. “Talk to me. You can tell me anything. Was it your boyfriend?”

“Ex,” Ian said quickly, and pulled his hands out from beneath Barley’s. 

Barley flexed his own hands, dropping them. Voice lowering, he asked, “Did… did he do something to you?”

“No! No,” Ian said quickly. “Bax was… he was a good boyfriend.” 

“Then what happened? You’ve been weird ever since you two broke up.”

Ian rolled backward in his chair, needing space. And then he stood, Barley straightening up as well. It was Ian’s turn to pace, arms crossed as he stopped by the window. Unicorns were rifling through their trash. 

“I swear, Ian,” Barley said, “I am not leaving your room until you tell me  _ something _ . Some kind of explanation.”

The pink in Ian’s pale blue face grew darker as he reddened, turning back to Barley. His brows drew together. “It’s… extremely embarrassing.” He could see Barley’s eyes light up at the possibility of Ian confiding in him. Ian sighed as Barley came closer, sitting on the edge of his bed. Ian joined him, but there was a large gap between them. Ian continued, “We were, uhmm… Bax and I messed around plenty. We never actually- erm, but that doesn’t matter. We’d do stuff…” He stopped, glancing at Barley’s face. His brother looked like he was about to hear the most important thing of his life, and Ian wanted to die. He had to force it out quickly. “I just said the wrong name, okay? We were messing around and I said somebody else’s name.” Ian could feel the heat in his face more than ever. His shoulders were tense, arms still crossed defensively. 

Barley was making an effort not to make any kind of strange expression, and the result was a series of very strange expressions. Finally he said, “Well… I guess that probably hurt his feelings, huh?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

Nodding, Barley said, “What happened next?”

“Nothing. He broke up with me.” 

They stared at one another for a moment before Barley’s gaze moved to his lap. He picked at the hem of his shorts, looking lost. Finally he faced Ian again. “I didn’t realize he broke up with you. I thought it was the other way.” 

“Nope.”

The silence between them stretched on until Barley finally spoke. He was smiling wryly as he said, “Look, I may not look like a cassanova to you, but I’m not a complete novice to the world of romance.”

“Oh God, oh God,” Ian groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “Please no-”

“One kind lady in my freshman year, and a long-term, gentleman lover the year before this.”

Ian pretended to gag. “Please, never say ‘gentleman lover’ again. I’m begging you.” 

Chuckling, Barley moved to the head of the bed, making himself comfortable. Ian climbed over and settled beside him, his head sinking onto Barley’s shoulder. “So you’ve successfully swung the topic away from yourself. Any chance we can finish talking about what’s been going on with you?”

“God, you’re persistent,” Ian said with a sigh. “Do we have to? I feel like you already know too much.” 

“Not yet, I don’t,” Barley said. “Come on, just tell me. Do you miss Baxter?”

“I… I guess? I don’t know.” 

Barley looked sideways at him. “Well that settles it. You’ve got to talk to him. You slipped up, sure, but if you still care about him then you’ve got to go for it! Come on! He works at the comic book shop, doesn’t he? I’ll give you a ride.”

Barley was off the bed, grabbing Ian’s sweatshirt and tossing it his way. Ian caught his dad’s sweatshirt and set it on the bed. “No,” he said firmly. “Barley, no.”

“Be bold!” Barley insisted. “We’ve already gone on one epic adventure. You’ve faced a rubble dragon! You’ve faced a gelatinous cube! You can do this!” 

“NO!” Ian shouted angrily. Surprised, Barley didn’t say anything, and Ian continued. “I can’t, okay? I can’t, and I won’t. Now lay off! And… a-and get out of my room!”

For a moment Barley was quiet before raising his hands in surrender. “Alright,” he said more softly. “I’ll uh… I’ll see you.” Turning, Barley left the room, closing the door behind him. Ian sat heavily on his bed, burying his face in his hands.

Tbc.


	2. Baxter

There was nothing worse for Barley than to feel helpless when Ian was in dismay. He’d never been good at laying off. Ian was his little brother and he’d take care of him until it killed him. 

He went downstairs and passed his mom where she was working out in front of the TV. “Everything alright?” she asked breathily as she did lunges. “Thought I heard some drama up there.”

“Ah, nothing serious,” Barley said, although he really didn’t know. “Going for a drive.” He headed outside before Laurel could ask anymore questions.

Barley had sincerely planned on taking a drive in Guinevere II to blow off some steam, but soon enough he found himself at the strip mall, parked out front of the comic book shop. He held onto the steering wheel, glaring daggers at the front door. 

“Don’t do it,” he muttered to himself. “Mind your own business.” 

The door opened and a cluster of nerds walked out, talking animatedly. Before the door shut he saw a glimpse of Baxter behind the counter, talking to a customer. Barley blew air out from between his lips and sighed. Who was he kidding? He’d been ready to do this the moment Ian had kicked him out of his bedroom. 

He climbed out and went inside, the little bell tinkling above the door frame. Barley pretended to peruse comics while Baxter finished with the customer, studying the elf over the edge of a comic page. He was solidly built like Barley, with a similar amount of scruff on his face. The only major difference between them were his glasses and more toned-down clothing choices. Barley knew he was nineteen, just a year older than Ian, but he could have easily passed for twenty. 

When the customer had finished paying and left, the two of them were left alone in the small shop. Barley returned the book to the shelf, and Baxter turned his way. His expression soured. 

“Barley,” he said flatly. 

“Hey Bax,” Barley replied, more cordially. He came over to the counter, leaning against it. “You don’t happen to have the new issue of The Crimson Cauldron, do you?”

Baxter turned and pulled out a copy from behind the counter, setting it on the display case. 

“Great, thanks man.”

“Anything else?” Baxter asked brusquely. 

Barley sighed. “Ian’s been pretty down in the dumps lately.” When Baxter showed no signs of responding, he continued. “Look, I uh… I heard what happened. Can’t you cut him some slack? I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

The other elf balked. “Some slack? Are you serious? He needs therapy.”

Barley’s eyes widened in outrage and confusion. “What the hell do you mean, ‘therapy’? Maybe you need therapy for taking it so personally.”

Baxter laughed shortly, “You’re the one who should be taking this personally. I can’t see how you’re not freaking out.”

“Huh? What are you-”

“Look, I liked Ian a lot. I really liked him. But…” He shook his head. “Sorry. I just can’t.”

\---

Barley left the comic book shop with more questions than answers. Baxter hadn’t wanted to talk about it any more, and he had the distinct feeling that Ian had left something out. Doubting his brother would be willing to talk again, there was nothing more he could do. 

Tbc.


	3. Barley's Rules

Ian headed downstairs taking two steps at a time, before turning down the hall and knocking on his brother’s door. “Permission to enter?” 

“Permission granted!” he heard Barley call in a lofty tone. 

Opening the door, Ian stepped into Barley’s room and collapsed onto his bed. Barley was at his desk, pecking away on his old laptop. He looked like he was focused, and Ian grew curious. “Whatcha doing?”

“Just writing up an essay for my history course. If I get ahead I might have time to go to my buddy’s board game night.” He finally stopped typing and turned his attention on Ian. “What’s up, man? You alright?”

Ian rolled his eyes. It had been nearly a month since their argument. Despite Ian’s best efforts, it was nearly impossible to hide things from his older brother. He’d tried to act like everything was okay, and it seemed as though Barley was accepting that. Usually. 

“Yeah, I’m good. I actually came to talk to you about my senior project. I think I have an idea.”

Barley grinned. “Yeah? Do share!”

“I was thinking about writing a persuasive essay on why public schools should offer magic as an elective. I was going to talk about different ways that bringing it back could benefit the community, and demonstrate with a few practical spells.” Ian glanced at Barley to see what he thought, but he didn’t have to wait for an answer. Barley looked thrilled at the concept. 

“Ian, that is a Grade A plan right there.” He shut his laptop and stood. “Forget game night. Let’s work on this! Man I am stoked!”

Ian chuckled and sat up. “Hey, slow down there. You may be willing to work away a Friday night, but personally I wouldn’t mind going out. Do you want to do something? Do you think-” Ian scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Do you think I could tag along to game night?” He was genuinely surprised when his brother looked hesitant. “No? It’s okay if it’s a no.”

“No, no,” Barley said quickly, still seeming hesitant. “It’s just that we tend to drink when we hang out there. It’s kind of a nerd-themed college party, really. We play until we’re too buzzed and then we switch to drinking games. I wouldn’t want you to um, feel out of place or whatever, being underage.”

Ian’s brow was quirked. “Are you telling me that you're some kind of party guy?”

Barley straightened. “Partaking in the occasional celebratory mead does not make me a ‘party guy’. But yes, if I were a wizard, my name could be Fun Times Barley, Bringer of Booze.”

Laughing, Ian said, “God, how do I not know this about you?”

“Because you’re my baby brother and I like to maintain the air of maturity and grace in your presence.”

Ian snorted, standing up. “Oh yeah, those are definitely the first words that come to mind when I think of you. Barley Lightfoot, gracious and mature!” 

“Alright, alright,” Barley said. “What would you like to do? I can go to game night or stay home to help with your senior project. I am genuinely interested in your thing, and would be more than happy to stay.”

Ian didn’t answer right away. “What about the me-tagging-along thing?”

Barley’s brows drew together. “I wish I could, but it’s a drinking party. You only just turned eighteen. I wouldn’t feel comfortable with you in a place like that.”

“Come on,” Ian pleaded. “I want to hang out with you and do something fun. And no, I don’t mean ice cream at the Manticore’s Tavern. I’m not a kid anymore.” 

“Ian, of course you’re not a kid,” Barley said in a tone so sincere that Ian couldn’t argue. But still, he stood there with his arms crossed until Barley continued. “Mom would kill me.”

“Mom doesn’t have to know.”

Barley stood up. “Alright. But you’ll follow my rules, hear me? No mixing drinks. You pick one and stick to it. Do not take any snacks from Arthur. And when I decide you’ve had enough to drink, you’ve had enough. Clear?”

“Can do,” Ian said. He turned to leave, wanting to bounce before Barley would have a chance to change his mind.

Tbc.


	4. Breaking Barley's Rules

That evening, Barley and Ian headed out in Guenivere II. Ian glanced Barley’s way, noticing his pale blue knuckles on the wheel. “Hey, you okay?”

“Oh yeah,” Barley said a little too quickly. “I just, heh, I’m not used to lying to mom.”

Ian tilted his head teasingly. “Come on, you didn’t lie. You told her we’re going to a game night, and we might be back late. That’s the truth. Since she knows your friend Lance, she even said we could stay there if you decide you’ve had too much. Literally what are we lying about?”

“Um, the YOU drinking part! Lying by omission!” 

“Barley, look at me.”

“I’m driving,” Barley said stubbornly.

“This is not the face of someone who is going to get tanked the first chance they get.”

“We’ll see. I’m going to keep my eye on you.” 

Ian snorted, because Barley’s tone was less than severe. He knew that Barley trusted him. 

They pulled up to a liquor store and Barley went in, returning a few minutes later with several plastic bags with paper bags inside. They were heavy when he passed them to Ian, who set them on the floor between his feet. 

\---

Ian had expected a party like what he’d seen in the movies, but he should have known better. There were less than a dozen people, a few guys and girls and couples. Folding tables had been set up, board games and card games, snacks and booze crowding them. The group had split into two depending on what they wanted to play. 

Barley was welcomed with enthusiasm as he held up the bags. “Everyone, this is my brother, Ian. Ian, this is everyone.”

“Welcome to our humble tavern!” One of the guys said. It was Lance, a tiefling whom Ian had seen before in Barley’s car. “Take a seat!” Lance said welcomingly. His tail curled around the chair leg beside him, pulling it out in welcome.

“Hi, th-thanks,” Ian said, sitting. 

Moments later another guy came in, a stocky ogre carrying a stack of tupperware. He was given an equally enthusiastic welcome as he set down the containers and sunk into the seat beside Ian. Ian watched as the party of people opened them, pulling out cookies and brownies and chocolate-covered pretzels. 

“Hell yeah,” Lance said, grabbing a brownie. He elbowed Ian. “Take one of these before they run out. They’re the bomb.”

“Okay,” Ian said quickly, picking out one of the dark, sticky brownies. He took a bite, groaning at the chewy, chocolaty goodness. He took a second and nibbled on it as he watched everyone play. 

Soon Barley returned, coming over to Ian and setting a solo cup in front of him. “Hey Arthur, scoot over. I want to sit next to my brother.”

“Mm hmm,” Arthur said absentmindedly as he flipped through his hand of cards, and Barley sat.

Ian looked at the ogre and then at Barley. “Um... that’s Arthur?”

“Yeah, why?” He frowned. “You didn’t eat something of his, did you?” 

Ian stared at him. “Yeah, actually! I didn’t know it was Arthur!”

“Oh my God, Ian. What did you eat?”

“Two of the brownies.”

“TWO? Those are SPECIAL brownies! And he always makes the brownies the strongest.”

Arthur leaned over to look at him, his eyes red-rimmed. “Heck yea, man. My brownies are legendary. Homegrown purple grass.”

Barley made a frustrated sound and Ian shrugged. “I feel fine.”

“Now you do. Just wait.”

The night moved on. Barley taught Ian how to play one of the games, and they had a good time together. Ian loved to see this Barley, like his normal boisterous self but more loose, and louder if that were at all possible. Ian grinned as Barley threw his arm around him, his face growing warm. Ian felt relaxed, incredibly relaxed, like everything in the world was going to be great. He only pulled away when he needed to take a bathroom break, and wandered down the hall. He poked in a few doorways and found the bathroom. Finished and hands washed, he took a detour to the kitchen when he saw Lance filling his cup.

“Great party,” Ian said, leaning against the counter.

“Thanks kid, good to have ya,” Lance said. “Hey, want to try this? Ghost berry mead.”

Ian leaned in curiously but then hesitated. Barley had told him not to mix drinks. He asked, “Is this a mixed drink?”

“Nope, just Ghost berry mead, plain and simple.” 

“Okay, cool. Thanks!” Ian accepted the drink, and drank as he headed to his seat. He’d barely sat down before his vision turned upside down, and the chair slid back a few inches as he sunk into it. 

Barley turned to look at him with concern. “Hey buddy, you doing alright? What’s that you’ve got there?”

“Ghost berry mead, plain and simple!” Ian said with a chuckle, leaning into his brother. 

“What?! I told you not to mix drinks! Give me that. That’s way too strong for you.” 

For once, Ian was quicker, holding the drink out of his reach. “It’s not a mixed drink! I’m allowed.” He stuck out his tongue and giggled. When Barley looked like he was going to make a go for it again, Ian stumbled back to his feet again and began to drink quickly as he hurried away. He could hear laughter from a few people behind him who must have seen it. 

“Hey, come back here!” Barley yelled, but Ian just laughed harder and went around the corner, running into Lance and sloshing his drink on himself. 

“Sorry Lance,” Barley said, but Lance was laughing, wiping off his damp sleeve as he left the kitchen.

Alone with Barley, Ian backed up to the counter and finished his drink, dropping the plastic cup into the sink behind him. He gave Barley a sultry smile. “All gone. Nothing you can do now.” He tried walking to Barley and fell forward, his head spinning as he felt his older brother’s thick arms around him.

“Mixing drinks is not the same as drinking mixed drinks.”

“Drinkin’ mixed whatta whatta?”

Barley sighed. “That’s it, I’m putting you in Lance’s guest room. There’s no way in hell I’m bringing you home for mom to see. Not like this. You smell like too much fun.”

“Well I am having fun,” Ian said as he nuzzled against Barley’s broad chest. 

His brother chuckled and held onto him, guiding him up a flight of steps that felt like it went on forever. Ian did his best to drag himself along, and made no objection as Barley helped him into a bed. When had he even gotten to the bedroom? There were gold stars painted on the ceiling, and they spun dreamily. 

“Alright, I have water on the nightstand for you, and the trash bin. I’m going to come check on you soon.”

“No,” Ian whined. “Don’t leave me.”

Barley crouched down, smiling at him in the dim lamp light. “I’ll be right downstairs, and I’m coming back soon. You just rest, okay?” He leaned in and kissed Ian’s forehead. Ian closed his eyes, savoring the soft warmth of Barley’s lips against his skin. He wanted more of that. 

\---

Ian opened his eyes as he felt the bed dip beside him. The party was still going on downstairs, and he had the vague sense that not much time had passed. As he turned over he felt the world turn in the opposite direction. 

“Hey, slow down,” Barley said, holding his upper arm. Ian could smell alcohol on his breath, something that was different from what he’d been drinking. It smelled good. 

“What’re you doin’ here?” Ian asked.

“Sharin’ the bed. Only one that’s free.”

Ian could tell that Barley had been drinking more than before, and he had no problem with that at all. “It’s not free,” Ian said. “I’m in it.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to share,” Barley said with a lazy laugh.

“I don’t like sharing,” Ian said as he curled up against Barley. He didn’t even know what they were talking about anymore. 

He listened to Barley chuckle above him. “Jeez, you are pretty smashed.” 

“Mm hmm,” Ian murmured happily. “Sorry I drank too much. An’ sorry I ate Arthur’s snacks. I broke your rules.”

“That’s okay, I guess I could’ve been clearer.” 

Ian was sleepy, but not too sleepy. Conversationally he asked, “What’d you think when I told you about Bax? Bout what I did?”

Barley shrugged. “I dunno. It was a little funny to be honest.”

Ian chuckled and soon Barley did too. Barley patted his shoulder, rubbing it soothingly.

“Wanna know something even funnier?” Ian asked.

“Sure,” Barley said patiently. “But we’re going to have to sleep afterward.”

Ian had barely heard the last part as he continued. “When Bax was jerking me off, an’... and I said the wrong name, I said your name. Heh.” Ian was slurring, already half asleep. “Pretty messed up, huh? That I was thinkin’ bout you. I do that a lot.”

Barley didn’t say anything, and the hand on Ian’s shoulder went still. Ian sighed, and moments later he’d drifted off.

Tbc.

Please let me know what you think!


	5. A Headache

The next morning, Ian woke with a dull ache in his head. Bleary-eyed, he reached for the glass of water on the nightstand. Room temperature water had never tasted better. His head swam when he sat up, looking around. He was in an unfamiliar bedroom, which he remembered to be the guest room at Lance’s place. A chill raised goosebumps on his skin and he glanced down to find that he was shirtless. He was completely naked, in fact. What the hell?

How had he gotten there? Ian frowned, trying to start from the beginning and work his way forward. He clearly remembered when he and Barley had been gaming and drinking, and he remembered Barley helping him upstairs. He’d gone to sleep, but then there was Barley again, sleeping beside him. Had that been a dream? More importantly, why was he naked?!

There was a stack of clothes beside the bed, and he hastily looked through it. His pants and underwear were there, as well as a clean shirt he didn’t recognize. Since his own shirt was missing, he quickly put on what he had. Ian swayed as he tried to pull up his jeans, and braced the edge of the bed before straightening up again. And then he nearly fell over on a damp towel on the floor. 

He didn’t have a good feeling about any of this. However he’d gotten to this point, it had probably been something embarrassing. Had he made a fool of himself? Had he embarrassed Barley? Where was he? Ian quickly and clumsily made the bed, confused when he found there was no sheet on the mattress. Had there been one last night? Regardless he made the bed, spreading out the blanket neatly and making sure nothing else was out of order. He put on his socks and shoes and picked up the towel, hanging it up in the bathroom across the hall. After that he headed downstairs.

Lance was pouring himself a bowl of cereal and Barley was sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee. Barley looked absolutely haggard, and his expression was unsettlingly grim. 

“M-Morning,” Ian said nervously. 

Barley’s expression changed, a forced and uncomfortable smile. “Hey.”

“Want some coffee?” Lance asked. I got a pot right here. “Cereal?”

“Coffee would be great, thanks,” Ian said as he sat at the table. A moment later there was a mug in front of him. Lance sat with them, digging into his bowl of cereal. “So whose shirt am I wearing?” Ian finally asked. “I uh, I don’t remember everything from last night.”

“It’s mine,” Lance said through a mouthful. “I can get it back from Barley whenever.”

“Oh, thanks,” Ian said. “But uh.. How… how did this happen?”

“You had a rough night,” Barley said. He didn’t sound mad, but he did sound off. He kept his eyes on his coffee. “An hour after you fell asleep you woke up and puked in the bed.”

Ian’s face went scarlet. That explained a lot. The sheet being gone, his clothes being gone, and the wet towel. He must have had to shower. Ian couldn’t imagine Barley having to help him with that. It was the most embarrassing thing he could think of. No wonder Barley looked tired.

“I am so, so sorry,” Ian said, staring at his hands.

“It’s cool,” Lance said, as if the apology was directed at him. “Merl barfed on the couch downstairs before I made Arthur drive him home. He broke a lamp on his way out, too. I’d say it could’ve been worse for you.” 

“Could’ve been better,” Ian murmured. Surely Barley was never going to take him to a party again. 

\---

The drive home was quiet. Barley put on the radio and said nothing, other than to answer Ian’s questions as briefly as he could. Ian apologized several times, and Barley told him it was no trouble. Ian almost wished he would just get mad. Normally he would get a little mad when the occasion called for it. A thought finally dawned on Ian and his stomach plummeted.

What if he’d told him?

No, there was no way. No amount of alcohol or pot brownies could make him do that, right? Ian would have rather died than told Barley. And that wasn’t an exaggeration. But the possibility, however small, had Ian’s raw insides twisting. He felt nauseous. “Pull over!” he said urgently, and Barley quickly turned off the road and into a gas station parking lot. Ian stumbled out of the van and fell onto a small grassy area, retching hard. He dry heaved, eyes watering. Barley’s hand was on his shoulder a moment later, strong and comforting, holding him steady. Ian sat up and Barley offered him a bottle of water. Ian drank and swished out his mouth, spitting onto the grass. 

“Barley…” he said weakly. “Did I… say anything to you? Something… really bad?” 

He looked up at Barley, who said nothing. But Ian could see something in his eyes. He looked pained. Ian’s eyes welled up with tears and he wiped them with his sleeve. He couldn’t ask. Part of him knew, part of him was afraid to know. Ian stood up, swatting away Barley’s offered hand. He went to the van and climbed in, and Barley returned to the passenger seat. They sat there for a while, classic rock playing with the volume low. Cars zoomed past on the road beside them. It was a beautiful late morning, beams of sun breaking through the clouds and moving over the mountains in the distance. But nothing could have made Ian feel better. 

Ian was the first to speak. “This is the worst moment of my life, and I don’t even remember what I said. But I know. And I’m sorry.” He was quietly crying again, angry tears spilling down his face. His sleeves were damp as he wiped at them. “I’ve ruined everything, and I don’t even know what I said...” He sniffled. 

Barley shut off the radio and they sat there in silence. Ian wanted to disappear. Finally Barley said, “You told me whose name you said when you were with Bax.” Ian nodded, unable to look at his brother. But then he continued. “After you got sick, you needed a shower. You could barely stand up and I had to keep hold of your arm while you were in there. But you were in good spirits. You kept asking me to get in with you.” Barley pinched the bridge of his nose and then rubbed his mouth. “And you um… you tried to kiss me.” 

Ian covered his burning face. “I’m so sorry,” he said through his hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it-”

“Oh I think you meant it,” Barley said flatly. His tone had Ian lowering his hands, and they looked at one another. Barley continued. “I need an explanation, Ian. I need… more information. Something! I just can’t understand how you- how this happened.”

Ian shook his head. “I-I don’t know.”

“That is definitely not good enough,” Barley said. “What, are you watching too much porn? Did you pick up an incest kink or something?”

“No!” Ian shouted, cheeks burning. He caught himself, his voice lowering. “No. The way I… ugh.” He ran his fingers through his dark blue curls. “I’d feel the same way if we weren’t related. It’s not about that.”

“Well then talk to me, Ian. Explain it.” He pulled the keys out of the ignition, clearly not planning on going anywhere until Ian spoke.

Breathing, Ian said, “I uh… I don’t know how it started. I mean, well, maybe I do. I don’t know.” He sighed. “Baxter and I had an argument a few months ago. He was just talking about how he dealt with an issue at work, with this irate customer, and I didn’t like the way he handled it. The argument was no big deal. But I guess I realized I didn’t like the way he handled it because it wasn’t the way you would handle it. It was just kind of a random thought, but I kept thinking about it, and I realized that I liked Bax for all of the qualities he had in common with you. Then I realized how much you two look alike. After that I started looking back at the other guys I liked, and it was like I was always looking for  _ you _ . It was… it was really hard when I realized what I wanted, and that nobody else would ever be good enough.”

Ian swallowed and glanced to the side at Barley. His brother was staring blankly through the windshield. But he didn’t look angry anymore. He looked… Ian wasn’t sure. 

“Say something,” Ian begged.

“I’m just kind of in shock.” 

Ian didn’t know what that meant, but he knew his brother. Barley’s tone was just a little softer than it had been all morning, as if he’d been relieved. Had he really thought Ian was fetishizing him? He supposed he’d be just as confused if he were in Barley’s place. But what was this softness? Was he giving up on him? 

“Are you-” Ian tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Are you mad at me?”

“...No.”

“Is everything ruined?” Ian asked desperately. “Could we just… pretend all of this never happened? I swear I’ll never bring it up again. We could take a step backward. Maybe I could find a memory charm, we could both-”

“Ian, just breathe. Nobody’s using a memory charm, okay?”

“R-Right, okay.” 

“We’ll figure this out. We just need to breathe, take this one step at a time. And I’ve really got to crash when we get home.”

Ian was reminded of how tired Barley looked, and realized that he most likely hadn’t been able to sleep that night. He put his hand out for the keys. “Here, let me.” His heart sunk for a moment, wondering if Barley would let him drive anymore. Had he killed the trust between them too?

But a moment later the keys were in his hand, and Barley was climbing out of the van so that Ian could sit behind the wheel. Ian buckled in as Barley took the passenger seat, and felt grateful for that one small shred of trust that he was sure of. 

Tbc. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would be so appreciative to hear your thoughts!


	6. Ian's Bad Posture

“Could I have the salt, please?” Ian asked. 

“Sure, here,” Barley said, picking it up and handing it to Ian.

“Thank you.”

They were both startled by a loud clatter as their mother set down her fork and knife. “Alright, I’ve had it,” she said. Her sons looked at her wearily. “You two have been acting so weird all week. You’ve been… too polite! At first it was kind of a nice change, nobody putting anyone in headlocks over mashed potatoes, but now I feel like I’m living with a pair of pod people! Now, neither of you are leaving this table until I get an explanation.”

Ian was having dejaVu, feeling as if he were back in Barley’s van, being forced to confess. Like mother, like son. Knowing all of this was his fault, he felt obligated to be the one to deal with it. He said, “It’s… kind of personal. Guy stuff. It’s embarrassing.” 

Laurel Lightfoot looked completely perplexed, but she’d never been one to push them when it came to ‘guy stuff’. She sighed. “Well. It sounds like I’ve hit a dead end with answers, then. Can you two at least try and work out whatever’s going on? I’d like my sons back, please.” 

“Yes Mom,” they said in unison. 

After dinner, Barley and Ian were on dish duty. Their mom had gone to the living room to read, and they were left alone. Barley scrubbed dishes and Ian dried them. Ian felt like he had a time bomb in his stomach, and it had been ticking all week long. But he couldn’t take it anymore. He set down the plate he was drying and faced Barley. He spoke with his voice down, as to avoid alerting their mom.

“Look, this week has been hell. I can’t stand us avoiding each other anymore. I wish things could be normal again.”

Barley looked at him, hesitantly relieved. “Yeah man, me too.”

Ian felt a hopeful flutter inside him. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Barley said with a small smile. “I miss hanging out.”

Ian couldn’t believe his luck. “So we can just forget about last week, then?”

He was surprised when Barley hesitated. “I… I don’t know about that. I think I deserve to be able to talk about it more. If I need to.”

“Oh… y-yeah, of course.” How strange, Ian thought. And how stressful. If Barley was thinking about what happened, Ian wanted to know. He wanted to deal with it now, not stew on it indefinitely and then be caught off guard down the road. But he wasn’t in the position to demand anything, not if he wanted to salvage what he could of his relationship with his brother.

They went back to doing dishes for a few minutes before Ian was startled by a splatter of water on his face. He looked at Barley, who flicked his fingers through the running water, hitting Ian in the face once more. Ian laughed. “Hey, knock it off.”

“Make me,” Barley said, grinning. 

Ian put his hand in the water and flicked Barley as well, beaming as his older brother flinched. He watched as Barley stole his dish towel and soaked it under the tap. Ian knew instantly what he was doing. “Oh no, don’t you dare!”

Ignoring him, Barley wrung out the towel and then twisted it. Ian started away but Barley was faster, towel snapping him in the back of the leg. Ian ran from the room, his spirits suddenly soaring. This was familiar ground for them. Something to be cherished. The towel hit him again and he let out a shriek, charging clumsily into the living room. “Mom!”

“Mother can’t save you now!” Barley shouted. 

“Ouch!” Ian yelped as he was snapped again. He looked to his mom, but Laurel had her book raised in front of her face to avoid getting involved. Ian darted for the stairs and bolted up them two at a time, which was fortunately his strong suit. He had his bedroom door shut before Barley had made it to the top, and leaned against it, panting. He listened to Barley’s footsteps stop on the other side.

“You’ve escaped me this time,” Barley said through the door. “But mark my word, you shall not be so lucky next time.”

“We’ll see about that,” Ian said challengingly. But he wasn’t so sure that next time he’d want to get away.

\---

Things didn’t quite go back to the way they were, but the second week was better. He and Barley no longer walked around on eggshells, and their mother seemed satisfied. Barley had insisted on continuing their usual magic training, and they began working on Ian’s senior project together. 

“I think healing magic would be a great choice,” Ian said. “That’s something the world definitely needs back.”

“True,” Barley said, crossing his ankles as he sat on Ian’s bed. “But how are you going to demonstrate that? I don’t think Teach is going to like you injuring yourself in order to have something to heal. 

Ian frowned. “That’s true. Maybe I’ll just write about that one.”

“What about alternative energy? Magic couldn’t fulfill the current demand, but it sure as heck could supplement it.”

“Also true,” Ian said, thinking. “First responders who were trained in magic could keep power going during outages due to storms or fires.”

“Do you think you could tame any of your electricity spells enough to turn on a lightbulb without it exploding? I mean, how many Ians does it take to turn on a l-”

“Oh shut up,” Ian said with a smile. “I’ll figure it out. I think...”

“Oh you will,” Barley said.

Ian felt warm in the wake of Barley’s confidence in him. “So… I was also thinking about transportation. It’d also be really useful for emergencies, and it would make for a great demonstration. I’ve also been practicing. I’m.. not bad.”

Barley sat up. “Since when have you been practicing?”

“All last week.”

Barley didn’t say anything. They hadn’t been on steady ground then, and he seemed regretful. “Hey, well let me help you now.” He got to his feet.

“Now like right now?”

“You got it,” Barley said, pulling him out of his chair.

\---

A fifteen minute drive took them past the edge of town, to a wide open field with sunny mountains farther on. They parked and walked out into the field, Ian wielding his repaired staff, and Barley carrying a bag with a few books. The wind whipped lightly at their clothes and hair, and Barley had to tug down his hat to keep it on.

“Alright, do you need a refresher?” Barley asked, gesturing to the bag of books. 

“Nah, thanks,” Ian said, pulling at his elbow to stretch. He positioned himself with his staff, and paused at Barley’s noise. “What?”

“Nothing. Nnn… maybe your posture.”

Ian huffed. “Posture means nothing! I’m good at this.”

“But think of how much better you’d be with the right posture!”

Sighing, Ian allowed Barley to come over and start tugging at him, pulling his elbows and pushing at the small of his back to get him to straighten up. “Better?”

“Better.”

“Can I do the magic now?”

“Yes, you can do the magic now.”

Ian shook his head and then turned back to concentrate. He focused on the air in front of him as if it were an invisible door, and pointed his staff. He called out, “When the fire flashes hot, let me be where I am not!”

A wall of flames grew to life, and an empty circle opened within it. It was a portal, something Ian had gotten very good at in the week before last. He looked sideways at Barley, his expression smug.

Barley was in awe. “I can’t believe it. That is so cool!”

“Just wait,” Ian said with confidence. He jumped through the portal and it vanished. Barley felt a finger tap his shoulder and he whirled around to find Ian behind him, having stepped out of another portal. 

“Whoa!”

Ian waved the staff and another portal appeared, and he jumped through it. Again and again he disappeared and reappeared, each time teasing Barley by yanking at his vest or swapping his hat. Barley laughed as his hat whipped off his head, Ian vanishing with it through a portal. He turned around and around, preparing himself for Ian’s reappearance. When another portal opened, Barley was ready. He lunged just as Ian leapt out of it, grabbing him around the waist.

“Got you!” he shouted, pulling Ian toward him. Ian yelped, dropping both the hat and staff. 

It was only for a second, but Barley stood there with his large hands wrapped firmly around Ian’s waist. They were close. So close. Even with the wind, Ian could feel Barley’s breaths against his skin. Ian’s heart jumped into his throat and Barley released him, turning away. Ian could feel his face heating up. What had that been?

They both busied themselves, Barley retrieving his hat before the wind took it, and Ian grabbing his staff. “Well it seems like you’ve got a good handle on that one,” Barley said. “It’s almost as if you dragged me out here just to show off.”

“Not possible,” Ian said, grateful for the change of focus. “Since _you’re_ the one who dragged _me_.”

“Touche,” Barley conceded. He slung the bag over his shoulder and headed to the van. Ian was surprised. Were they done already? It seemed so.

Tbc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hearing your feedback means a lot to me, if you can!


	7. The Awkward Dinner

Ian was kissing Barley. No, he was dreaming that he was kissing Barley. There was something fuzzy about the edges of it all, but he could tell where he was. He was in the bathroom at the party, hot water running down his bare skin and steam clouding the air around them. Ian was leaning out of the shower with the curtain pushed to the side, holding onto Barley’s shirt. His mouth was pressed against Barley’s in a kiss that lingered. Time had stopped. Ian’s tongue slipped out, pressing at his brother’s warm lips.

And then it was over, Barley pulling back sharply. Barley’s expression was both frightened and furious, his face flushed pink. “Jesus, Ian! You need to stop.”

Ian smiled at him smugly. “Come in here and make me.” 

Still angry, Barley reached down to turn off the water, and yanked a towel off the rack. He shoved it into Ian’s hands and turned away.

Ian gasped as he sat up in bed. He could still feel the warm steam on his skin, and the taste of alcohol on Barley’s mouth. He rubbed his face. No, no he didn’t really taste it now. It had just been so vivid. He checked his phone for the time and saw that it was five in the morning. The house was still quiet. And he needed the quiet to process that, because with every minute he was starting to realize that it hadn’t been a dream.

It’d been a memory. 

\---

The last bell rang, and Ian said goodbye to his friends. He walked outside of the school, and through the crowd of other students, he saw Barley’s van. And there his brother was, waving him down. Barley always picked him up on Fridays. 

But Ian ignored him, holding tightly onto his backpack straps as he walked down the sidewalk and passed him by. “Ian!” his brother called, but he ignored him. Ian got onto the bus and took a seat, his stomach turning uncomfortably. Out the window Barley was looking at him with confusion, and Ian glared back before turning away.

In hindsight, the plan to avoid Barley hadn’t been thought out very well. With all of the stops at different houses, the bus route took much longer than it would take for his brother to get home in the van. Ian nervously chewed on his fingernails until the bus finally stopped at his house. And of course, Guinevere II was parked out front. But as he got off the bus and went to the door, he steeled himself. He just had to avoid Barley forever and bottle up his feelings, and everything would be fine. 

Stepping inside, Ian shut the door behind him. Barley was sitting on the couch in the living room, watching him with his arms crossed. 

“Hey sweetie!” Laurel called from the kitchen. 

“Hey Mom,” Ian called back. Barley was unfolding his arms and standing up, but Ian darted up the stairs and slammed his door before he had to face him. 

The afternoon was unproductive. Ian worked on his homework and senior project, and was surprised when his Mom knocked on the door. She opened it and came in. “Hey, I just wanted to remind you that I’m going to meet up with Corey tonight. Barley is almost finished with dinner for you two.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“Are you doing alright?” She watched him with a line of worry between her brows. 

“Yeah Mom,” he said, offering a half-smile. 

Sighing, she went over to him and kissed his forehead. “Okay, be good. And don’t spend too much time up here. Your brother has been brooding all afternoon. I think he could use a little quality Ian time.”

Glancing away, Ian nodded. His mom ruffled his hair one last time and then left. 

Eventually the smell of good food wafted into Ian’s room and his stomach growled. He knew he couldn’t stay up here forever. However mad he was, refusing to eat something Barley made for him was just too mean. His footsteps were quiet as he went downstairs and turned into the kitchen. Barley’s back was to him as he worked, pulling a steaming pan out of the oven and colsing the door with the toe of his shoe. Ian knew this recipe. It was from an adventurer’s cookbook he’d gotten him for Candlenights last winter. Everything was rustic and not a single recipe had ever failed. Ian stood in the doorway watching Barley work, and his heart wrenched. He was so in love with him. 

But when Barley turned and their eyes met, Ian felt the anger rise up in him again. 

“Hey,” Barley said cautiously. 

“Hey,” Ian responded, his tone flat. 

“Dinner’s ready.”

“Okay.” 

Barley was nervous. He glanced away, busying himself with a pair of plates. Ian came into the kitchen and leaned against the counter as Barley plated rosemary chicken and rustic-cut root vegetables. Halfway finished plating, he just stopped. He turned to Ian. “Just spit it out, Ian. What did I do this time?”

Ian’s temper flared. “You lied to me.”

“I’ve never lied to you!”

Ian’s heart was in his throat, hammering desperately. He crossed the small space between them and entered Barley’s space. Barley’s eyes widened, his jaw clenching. Ian spoke softly. “If I kissed you right now, it wouldn't be the first time. Would it?” When Barley didn’t answer, Ian sharply said, “Would it, Barley?! You said that I tried to kiss you, and that was a lie. Because I didn’t just try, I DID! Why wouldn’t you tell me that?”

“Because I didn’t want you to remember it!” Barley blurted out. 

Ian understood. He nodded. “Because you didn’t want me to know that you kissed me back.”

“I did not kiss you back.”

“But you hesitated. You let me kiss you.”

“No! I- I… yeah. I let you.” Barley looked like he was in pain. “Look, I have never, ever thought about you that way. And I was drunk. What you said to me in bed totally caught me off guard. And then in the bathroom…” He pulled off his hat, running his fingers through his hair. “You were just so confident. No hesitation. You wanted me and you weren’t ashamed, and… I just couldn’t understand why I didn’t hate it. It should have bothered me but…” He shook his head. “I have never been more confused in my life. And ashamed! God, I was so ashamed.”

Ian’s brows drew together. He felt like something dirty, like he’d corrupted his brother. But… Barley hadn’t hated it? What did that mean? Regardless he said, “I’m sorry.”

Barley nodded halfheartedly, as if he were still lost in his own thoughts. “At the time I still thought… I don’t know. That you were in some absurd, sexual phase. It made me so mad. And that night I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about what would have happened if I’d been drunker. If I’d let it keep going. If we’d…” Barley’s face reddened. “I was disgusted with myself, because by the morning I knew that if anything had happened, I would want more from you afterward. And if this was about some fetish for you it would break my heart.” 

Barley’s eyes were glassy, and he scrubbed at them quickly with one fist. “I just lied awake that night obsessing and feeling so goddamned ashamed. And I couldn’t believe that all it took were a few short hours. That was all I needed to fall for this. This, whatever this is! You.” 

Ian couldn’t speak. They stood there in silence, both of them barely keeping it together. “Barley…” Ian said, his voice hoarse. 

It was as if Barley was broken out of a trance. He took a step back, and grabbed the plates. “Come on, let’s eat.”

“Huh? What?!”

“I can’t talk about this anymore. I never wanted to talk about this. I just…” He leaned against the kitchen table. “I just need time.”

Ian approached the table timidly. “Yeah. Of course.” 

They sat down together, and Ian didn’t know how they’d get through dinner without one of them exploding. He was sure that it would be himself. But then he took his first bite, fragrant herb chicken that had fallen right off the bone. It was like magic. “This is amazing.” He nervously glanced up at Barley, and was glad to see a smile form on his face.

They ate on, talking about the food and the recipe book, and then about Ian’s senior project. Ian felt like he was in a dream. Had the conversation in the kitchen actually happened? 

Eventually they finished, and Ian did dishes while Barley packed up the leftovers and put them in the fridge. Ian said, “Do you um, want to watch something? Or... something?”

“I think I should get some work done, actually,” Barley said. “Just this thing for class.”

“Right,” Ian agreed quickly. He couldn’t help but understand. Barley wanting to work on a Friday night meant that Barley needed space. And then he realized that despite everything that Barley said, it didn’t mean that it would actually happen. Them. Hell, it was absurd to even hope for. Wanting something and getting it were two different things, and Ian realized that he was living in a fantasy world. Barley had more moral strength than anyone he knew. He would never give in to this. And if Barley truly felt so ashamed, then Ian didn’t want to be the one to make Barley hate himself. 

“Hey, thank you for dinner. It was really great.”

“Yeah, it was,” Barley said weakly. They both smiled at the joke, but neither laughed.

“Well, goodnight.” 

“Night, Ian.”

Ian swallowed and turned away, heading upstairs to his room. He felt like poison. What had he done?

Tbc.


	8. The Renaissance

Ian couldn’t fall asleep. He lied there in bed thinking about how less than an hour ago, Barley had confessed… well, what he’d said was complicated, and Ian was still trying to decipher it. Barley was clearly confused and torn. He’d definitely never had feelings like this for Ian in the past. That much he’d made clear. That’s what Ian would have expected. That’s how it should be. And yet, Ian had drunkenly confessed to him, drunkenly kissed him, and Barley was still speaking to him. 

‘...if anything had happened, I would want more from you afterward. And if this was about some fetish for you it would break my heart…’

That, if anything, gave Ian hope. Because he wasn’t fetishizing Barley, and because his feelings were genuine. There was nothing in the world he was more sure of. He would never break Barley’s heart, not ever.

\---

The next morning, Ian was back to worrying. He got dressed hastily and fussed for ages in front of the mirror. His curly hair was misbehaving. After a lot more struggling it was back to the way he liked it, and he went on to worry about the dark circles under his eyes. 

Giving up, he went downstairs, nerves getting the better of him as he heard his mom and brother talking in the kitchen. He entered and found Laurel making eggs and bacon while Barley worked on a cup of coffee at the table. Barley put the mug down as Ian came in. 

“Morning,” his mom said. “You hungry?”

“Um, yeah, thanks.”

He made himself a coffee and sat across from Barley at the table. Barley gave him a hesitant smile, and Ian smiled back. Right then he would have given up his left ear for a mind-reading spell. 

Ian nearly jumped out of his skin when his mom said, “Ian, grab the juice, would you? Oop, you’re jumpy this morning, huh?”

“Ah sorry, sure,” Ian said quickly. He glanced at Barley, who was smirking down at his eggs. 

Juice and breakfast on the table, the three of them dug in. Ian flinched as something hit him in the neck, and he looked at Barley to find a serene look on his face. Suspiciously serene. His fingers were positioned behind another crumble of crispy bacon, which he flicked at Ian once more. 

“Hey!” Ian laughed. God, it was like the sun coming out. How was Barley so good at making him feel better? He still didn’t know how his older brother was feeling, but at least he didn’t hate him. Ian glanced at the wall behind Barley’s head, his eyes widening as if something were there. Barley turned to look, and Ian stole one of his strips of bacon. 

“HEY! Oh, you little- give me that!” 

Ian put the bacon in between his teeth, letting it hang there tauntingly. Through gritted teeth he said, “Come and get it!”

Barley reached out and swiped the bacon, which broke in half. Ian chewed what he had while Barley glared at him. Finally he tossed the other half onto Ian’s plate. “Take it, I don’t want your germy bacon.”

Ian stuffed the rest into his mouth, showing him that he wasn’t deterred. He’d stolen it fair and square. 

“Aw,” Laurel said, her head tilted as she looked at her two sons. “I’m so glad to see you two getting along. I had a feeling that a nice Boy’s Night In might do the trick.” 

“Ugh. Come on mom,” Barley groaned, “Don’t make it weird. It’s not like we spent the night gossiping about boys and reading Cosmic Magazine.”

“I hope not! Those are filthy. I saw one in line at the grocery store, featuring an article on ‘ten new ways to go down on your man’.”

“MOM!” both boys cried in unison. They were red-faced as their mother laughed and took a bite of her eggs. 

“So what are you two up to today? Any school work?”

“No,” Barley said through a mouthful. “No work today.” He glanced at Ian. “No magic either. I want to do something chill.”

“Well what about the Renaissance Faire?” Laurel suggested.

Ian caught the look on Barley’s face, his eyes going wide. But he quickly composed himself. “Is that this weekend? I thought it was next.”

“We should totally go,” Ian said, excited on Barley’s behalf. The man loved renaissance faires. 

But Barley simply shrugged. “Nah, it’s not a big deal. We should do something else.”

“Why don’t you want to go?” Ian asked with surprise. 

“Well I mean,” Barley looked sheepish. “I’d rather do something we both like. What about the arcade?”

Ian and his mom exchanged looks, as if to agree that they were sitting with the most precious and silly boy in the world. He turned back to Barley. “Dude. We’re going to the Renn Faire.” 

The Renaissance Faire was a solid two and a half hour drive away, and the two of them decided to get an early start and leave directly after breakfast. As they went out the door, Laurel called, “And remember, that money is for admission, food, and gas! Don’t starve yourself just to buy another sword! I’m talking to you, Barley!”

“I’ve got my own sword money, thank you!” Barley called back as he climbed in.

\---

They spent the drive talking about music and school and magic, and how last year’s Faire was. It was relaxed, and Ian was glad they weren’t talking about… well… feelings. Toward the end of the drive, Barley handed Ian his phone. “Can you bring up the group chat with Lance and everyone? Ask them if they’re going to the Faire today.”

Ian was startled, and admittedly a little disappointed. He’d expected this to be Barley-Ian time. But he shot them a message, and updated Barley as each of them responded. “Sorry, it sounds like they’re all busy,” Ian said. “Arthur said he would have gone if you’d messaged him this morning.”

“Ah,” Barley said, although he didn’t look disappointed. In fact, his expression was a little hard for Ian to read.

\---

Ian kept glancing sideways at Barley’s face as they walked into the front gates of the Renaissance Faire. Nothing outside of a tabletop game convention would have been more exciting for his brother, and seeing him happy always made Ian’s spirits lift. 

“Welcome to the grand and glorious Starlet Peak Renaissance Faire!” a dwarf dressed in old fashioned clothes said. 

In an equally lofty tone, Barley said, “Thank you, good sir!” Ian grinned as the two of them bowed to one another. Past the gates, it seemed that everyone working there was dressed in appropriate garb. Half the patrons were dressed up too. There were royals and peasants, and a few pirates. A fairy dressed as a wench fluttered her wings at them.

“Ay, welcome to ye ol Renn Faire!” she called out to them. Ian’s face went pink when he saw that she had a real pear set snugly into her cleavage. 

When they greeted her and walked away, Barley pushed his meaty pecs together and said, “Think I could pull that off?”

Snorting, Ian said, “Oh definitely. We’ll just have to get you a corset.” Soon after they wandered into a clothing shop, and discovered that the corsets were far too expensive for a few laughs. 

Eventually they made their way to the jousting rings, and cheered as the morning tournament started. Elves and dwarves, trolls and tieflings battled on horseback. After jousting they grabbed lunch, choosing enormous smoked turkey legs and fried pickles.

“I’m getting mead,” Barley said, handing his turkey leg to Ian to hold. Want me to snag you some?” 

“I think I’m good,” Ian said, wanting to have his head on straight for now. “Can you get me a lemonade?”

They watched a live chess match as they ate, where people stood on a giant chess board, each of them representing a piece. Once more Ian glanced at Barley, who looked about as happy as could be. Barley glanced back at him and Ian looked away. But when he turned again, Barley was still watching him, unabashed. Ian felt butterflies inside. 

After lunch they walked around, watching people performing a puppet show, and farther down, dancing to fiddle music. Ian admired the fiddler, and found himself lost in the moment. 

And then a large, warm hand closed around his. Ian’s heart nearly stopped as he turned to look at Barley, who was red-faced. Barley was also looking at the fiddler, determinately not catching Ian’s eye. Barley said, “In the van, I asked you to check with my friends because I wanted to make sure they weren’t coming. I was hoping I’d be able to do this. With nobody we knew around, you know?”

“Oh,” Ian said with surprise. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but he tried to contain himself. Instead he squeezed Barley’s hand. 

“W-Want to check out the dungeon?” Barley asked suddenly. 

“Sure,” Ian replied, and they walked together hand-in-hand.

The dungeon was a small and dimly-lit museum of medieval torture devices. Normally Barley would have been bouncing on his heels over the experience, but he seemed subdued now. Both of them were quiet, more interested in one another. 

“Fags,” someone coughed behind them, just as they walked into the sunlight again. Barley looked a little shocked. But Ian was smirking.

“What’s funny?” Barley asked him, surprised by his reaction.

Ian was still grinning as he said, “It’s just… imagine how offended he’d be if he knew… you know...”

Quietly Barley finished, “That we have the same parents?”

Ian’s face reddened but he nodded, and to his relief, Barley began to laugh too. Barley had to release Ian’s hand to wipe at his eyes. “Can you imagine?” Ian shook his head as he tried to catch his breath. Barley slung a heavy arm around him, pulling him along. 

Eventually they found themselves meandering around the shops, looking at snacks and wares, statues and armor. There were palm readings and potion-making which they passed on, and an incense shop that smelled nice for a minute and overpowering for any longer. There were even baby dragons for sale.

Barley declined when Ian pointed at a swordsmith’s station, instead pulling Ian into a book shop. Hidden in a darker corner they discovered a section of authentic old magic books. Barley insisted on combining the remainder of their mom’s money and his own in order to buy as many as they could, explaining that it would be something they could do together. 

The sun was low in the sky by the time they walked back to the van. Barley set the large package of books in the space between their seats, and they climbed in. It got dark fast, and soon enough Barley was cranking the radio.

“You alright?”

“Sure, just a little tired,” Barley replied.

“Yeah same,” Ian said. 

They’d only been on the road for twenty minutes, but it was starting to feel like forever. Ian couldn’t imagine having to drive if Barley was half as tired as he was. He knew that neither of them had slept well. Ian caught sight of a truck stop sign ahead and pointed it out. “Barley, I think we should just park. We could get some sleep and leave early.”

“No no,” Barley said. “I’m okay.”

“It ...could be fun,” Ian said quietly. 

Barley said nothing for a while. They reached the exit and Barley turned off, pulling into a spot. Barley shot their mom a text message explaining the plan as Ian climbed into the back. Suddenly he was not tired at all. He’d gone from feeling good to nervous as hell as he rearranged the junk in Barley’s back seat, and pulled out the pillows and blankets. He spoke just to calm himself down. “Man, you’ve got a lot of sleep stuff to work with back here.”

“Yeah I like sleeping in the van sometimes,” Barley said. “Works well at parties if they don’t have anywhere to crash inside.” 

“Safety first, I guess,” Ian said as he spread out the blankets. He lied down facing the van roof. “You know I think this might be bearable.” 

“High praise,” Barley chuckled, plugging his phone into the cigarette lighter to charge it. He climbed into the back and sat, kicking off his shoes and removing his vest and hat. With a sigh he lied back. There were plastic glow stars on the roof, and Ian kept his eyes on them. He swallowed when Barley shifted sideways, propping himself on his elbow. Ian glanced at him, just watching. 

“Barley?” Ian said quietly. 

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“I… I feel like I’m corrupting you. Like, you’re so good. You’re a good person. And me?” Ian rubbed his face. “I’m in love with my freaking brother.” 

When he dropped his hands, he saw that Barley was smiling, looking amused. But he didn't say anything in response to that. Instead he asked, “Can I touch you?”

Ian took in a quiet breath. “Y-Yeah.” 

Barley reached for him, his large hand pulling at Ian’s waist. They shifted closer together until Ian was resting his face against Barley’s soft chest. Barley stroked his back, slow movements from his shoulder to the base of his spine, and up again. Ian took a fistful of Barley’s t-shirt, holding on as he shivered. 

“You cold?”

“No.”

Barley’s hand moved to touch one of Ian’s ears, stroking it slowly along the bottom edge. Ian closed his eyes, embarrassed to feel himself already getting hard. His brother was kissing his forehead now, a large thumb stroking along his cheek and then brushing against Ian’s lower lip. Unable to help himself, Ian opened his mouth and took the end of Barley’s thumb between his lips. He tongued the warm skin and sucked lightly. 

He wasn’t ready for the deep rumble in Barley’s chest as he groaned. A moment later the thumb was pulled from Ian’s mouth, and Barley was kissing him instead. Ian’s face was in his hands, his mouth pressed passionately against the other’s. 

Ian couldn’t think. Barley was kissing him. Barley was kissing him hard, and Barley’s strong hand had moved to the small of his back, effortlessly pulling Ian closer until they were flush together. There was no hiding it now, it would be obvious that Ian was hard. And Barley groaned again at the feeling of it, and rocked his hips forward. 

Ian whined loud enough that it broke the kiss. A string of saliva broke between them as Barley spoke, his voice rough. “Holy fuck, Ian.” 

“What?” Ian asked, hooking his arm under Barley’s to pull him closer. 

Barley took the gesture as a plea for more, which it was. And a moment later he was climbing over Ian, pressing him down beneath him. They were kissing again. This time when Ian touched Barley’s lips with his tongue, Barley reciprocated, sliding his own into Ian’s mouth. Ian whined and rocked up against him. They ground against each other, Ian’s body moving with every strong roll of his brother’s hips. 

“Nnnh, Barley…” Ian breathed. 

“Yeah?” Barley moved to Ian’s ear, nibbling on the sensitive edge until Ian gasped. And then he was at his neck, teeth and tongue teasing and biting and sucking. Ian’s fingernails dug into Barley’s back through his t-shirt. “What is it?”

“I just… I need more… anything.”

Barley worked his way downward, a ravenous look on his face in the dim light. He shoved Ian’s shirt up to his armpits and ran his tongue up Ian’s body, from his naval to his collarbone.

“Oh God, oh God,” Ian whimpered.

Then Barley was on his nipple, flicking the tiny nub with his tongue before he closed his mouth over Ian’s skin and sucked. Ian was ready to come and he hadn’t even been touched yet. Finally Barley released him, his voice ragged when he spoke. “Ian, you are such a snacc.”

Ian snorted, laughing and covering his face. “Barley, why?! You just killed the moment.”

“Did I? I don’t think I did.” And that’s when Ian gasped, feeling Barley’s palm begin to massage his erection. “Feels like you want me to keep going.”

Ian looked down at him with wide eyes, desperately trying to resist rocking into Barley’s hand. He’d never expected Barley to be a tease in a situation like this. But hell, it was hot. “Y-Yeah.”

Barley began to undo Ian’s jeans, and Ian had to pinch himself to believe it was really happening. Barley was strong, and Ian didn’t have to raise his hips for him to shove them down, and then more carefully slide Ian’s underwear to his ankles. 

Ian could feel his face getting hot as Barley looked at his bare, pink-tipped prick. His breath hitched as Barley lightly held the base before licking it bottom to top. Ian melted into the blankets. But there was no break before Barley went down on him, his mouth enveloping Ian’s length with heat. Ian reached down, fingers lacing into Barley’s smooth hair as he began to bob his head. 

“Oh fuck,” Ian said, his voice shooting up. “Oh fuck, oh God Barley!” Barley chuckled. Chuckled! And the vibration took Ian by surprise. “I’m gonna come,” he warned, and felt Barley’s hand tighten against his hip, his tongue sliding playfully inside his mouth with no sign of pulling off. Ian’s body tensed and he gasped, cum spilling into his brother’s mouth. Ian’s head fell back against the bed and he panted, fingers slowly loosening around Barley’s hair. When he looked down, Barley was swiping his thumb across his mouth. He’d swallowed. 

When Barley looked up at him, he gave Ian a nervous smile. Ian reached for Barley, who crawled up to join him. Ian took a moment to fix his clothing before curling up against his brother. “Just give me a minute,” Ian said breathily. “I’m going to take good care of you.”

Barley chuckled. “About that… Would you be offended if I said I wasn’t ready to be on the receiving end?”

Ian pulled back to study Barley’s face. “What do you mean? You don’t want me to do anything?”

Chewing his lip, Barley nodded. “Sorry, I know that’s totally weird.”

“So you don’t want me to see or touch you at all?”

“I’m sorry Ian, I just need a little longer-”

“It’s okay,” Ian said, smiling softly. “Whatever you need, man.” After a moment he added, “But… um, I just wish you could finish too.” He touched Barley’s chest. “What if you do it? I’ll kiss you, and I promise not to look.”

“Pff, jeez Ian…” Barley said, sounding very embarrassed. “Isn’t that weird?”

“Come on,” Ian said playfully. “What isn’t weird about all of this?”

Barley groaned softly and nuzzled Ian’s face. They began to kiss again as Barley undid his pants and began to jerk himself off. The kisses between them were soft and slow, the gentle pull of lips between teeth, tongues sliding together. Ian wanted desperately to reach down and feel that hot, velvet-soft skin in his own hand. But he’d made a promise, so he kept his hands up on Barley’s chest. 

Ian knew that Barley was getting close as his breaths became ragged, and his kisses grew more heated. Ian spoke against Barley’s lips. “Please come for me,” he urged. 

“Oh fuck, Ian… ngh..!”

Ian could feel Barley’s muscles tense beneath his hands as he finished. 

Once they were cleaned up and clothing righted, the two of them curled up together, pulling the blanket over them. “I don’t want to sleep,” Ian said, very sleepily.

“How can you not be tired?” Barley yawned.

“I am. I just don’t want this to end.”

“Well, I can promise you there will be other nights. And if you want, they can be just like this.” 

Ian smiled into the darkness and turned over, pulling Barley’s arm over him. Barley held him tightly, indulging him, until his breathing grew steady. Soon after, Ian was asleep as well.

Tbc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a little longer to write. If you enjoyed it, I would be so grateful to hear what you liked!


	9. Chapter Nine

Ian was growing impatient. Of course he didn’t have any expectations going into this, but as he sat beside Barley on the couch flipping through magic books, he found himself restless. Their mom was out with Colt, and they had the house to themselves. So why weren’t they taking advantage of that? He glanced sideways at Barley, who looked up from his book and smiled at him. And then he turned back to his book again. No holding his gaze, nada. Ian’s grip on his book tightened and the top of the delicate page began to rip. He winced. 

“You okay there, dude?” Barley asked.

“Yeah man, I guess I’m just burned out.” 

More like sexually and intimately frustrated. Ian wanted to climb onto Barley’s lap and suck on his brother’s tongue. Hell, he would happily just sit in his lap and cuddle him if he’d seemed remotely interested. 

“Hey listen,” Barley started. Ian watched him, waiting for the rest. Was he going to say something, finally? Something about them? And then Barley seemed to change his mind. “We don’t have to keep going tonight if you want to quit,” he finished lamely.

Disappointed, Ian looked away. “Yeah… Yeah, maybe I will.” He closed his book, setting it aside. “Well I’m going to go take a shower. See you.”

“Later,” Barley said casually, as if nothing were wrong.

What the hell?! Ian stalked upstairs and pulled off his clothes so roughly that he popped the button at the top of his shirt. Knowing he was alone upstairs, he stalked across the hall to the bathroom and turned on the shower, leaning naked against the sink as he waited for the water to get hot. He picked up his phone and began to scroll, looking for something online to numb his brain. But of course half the things he saw reminded him of Barley.

Ian thought about the situation. If he asked Barley to talk to him and confronted him over the sudden withdrawal of affection, would that be pressuring him? Or worse, would he sound like one of those nagging boyfriends? Not that they were boyfriends. Those waters were too dangerous to tread. No, the idea of sitting down with Barley for a nice mature conversation between adults did not sound appealing. If he asked questions, he was going to get an answer that would probably hurt. 

Stepping into the shower, he began to soap up, feeling the hot water relaxing his tense muscles. He sighed, and then immediately straightened up. 

The shower. When he’d been drunk, he’d seduced Barley into a kiss while in the shower. After what had happened at the Renaissance faire, maybe Barley would be even more receptive? Or if not, maybe he’d at least tempt Barley? Although the thought of rejection was unbearable. 

“Damn it,” he muttered to himself, wiping the water away from his face. “Damn it, come on. Be brave. Come on. Ugh!” 

Ian reached out from behind the shower curtain, wiped his hands dry on a towel and grabbed his phone. He just had to go for it. He opened up a chat with Barley and texted, 

‘Wish you were here.’

‘Where r u?’ Barley texted back almost immediately. ‘Thought u were in the shower.’

‘I am,’ Ian texted back, his heart pounding. He bit his lip and was reminded that Barley was trying to take it slow. But it had been a full week! He wanted attention and affection. He wanted Barley’s hands on him again.

After awhile Barley texted back: ‘Ur gonna ruin ur phone’

Ian bristled, huffing in indignation. He was running on adrenaline now as he defiantly held out his phone and took a picture of himself. He sent it instantly, before he’d even gotten a chance to look. Realizing his own haste, he opened the picture in a panic, and found that he looked a lot more furious than sexy. And oh God, the upward angle made him look so very stringbean-like. Bony shoulders and elbows, leading down to narrow, angular hips. He looked like something undead from the Crimson Cauldron. Ian groaned miserably. 

And worse than the picture was the fact that Barley was not responding. Ian set his phone down on the counter and returned to the shower defeated. Maybe he could drown himself in here. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a soft knock at the door. And then the door opened, and he could hear Barley coming in and shutting the door behind him. 

“Hey,” Barley said, sounding apologetic.

“Hey,” Ian said cooly, suddenly very busy washing his hair. 

“I uh…” Barley cleared his throat. “I think I owe you an apology.”

“Well, that text was pretty bad,” Ian said. 

“Oh, um. Well yeah, sorry for that. But I mean, look, I know I haven’t been… I probably haven’t acted the way you were expecting. I’ve just been trying to take it slow-”

“You don’t say!” Ian said, his voice rising with frustration. “And I get that, I really do. So you don’t want to screw around with your brother yet. But you could at least touch me like you like me! You don’t even hold my hand now.” Ian stopped short, needing to control his unsteady voice. “Do you regret what we did?”

“No,” Barley said, right away. Ian heard him sigh heavily. It was not a condescending sigh, but one of pure frustration. “If you’d let me finish, I’ve been trying to take it slow. And those little things, they ah… they make me want to do a lot more than the little things.”

Ian leaned closer to the curtain, his nose brushing against the plastic drapes. “Really?”

He could hear Barley moving closer. When he spoke, he was most definitely only inches away from Ian. His voice sounded more rough this time. “Ian… I can’t stop thinking about fucking you. I’m trying so hard to be good, but if I get you in my lap or just cuddle you in bed, I’m… it’s going to be so hard to keep my hands to myself.” 

Ian’s hand flew to his mouth, fingers trembling as they pulled away again. He felt dizzy. He was instantly turned on by his brother’s words. Ian pushed the shower curtain aside and grabbed Barley by the collar of his shirt. He pulled him in and kissed him, and felt Barley’s hands move to his waist. The water pelted on them, soaking their faces, soaking the front of Barley’s clothes and the bathroom floor. 

“Just do it, Barley,” Ian breathed. “I want it. I want you.”

“I can’t. I want to, but I can’t. Not yet.”

Ian ran his hands down Barley’s black t-shirt, now clinging to his curved chest and stomach. “Barley, please,” Ian whined. “I need something. I’ll take anything, I just want you so badly.” 

“Mmh,” Barley groaned, and kissed Ian harder. And then he pulled back, and began to undress hastily. He pulled off his hat as Ian shoved his vest down, and then went his shirt and cuffs and God Barley had way too many things on! Ian’s mouth fell open when he saw Barley shirtless, because it had been over a year since he’d seen him as such. 

Barley had gotten a new tattoo, a huge Phoenix gem surrounded by electricity on his pectoral, right over his heart. Ian felt butterflies at the sight of it. “Barley,” he said softly.

Looking self-conscious, Barley didn’t say anything back. He continued to undress until he’d removed everything but his underwear. Ian could already tell he was hard, and the stretch in the fabric had Ian’s eyes widening. Barley hooked his thumbs in his waistband and removed the last of his clothing. And Ian looked down at a cock that was never, ever going to fit into his body.

“I… oh my God.” He looked up and met Barley’s eyes. 

Barley’s face was flushed scarlet. “Yeah..?”

“I’m never going to lose my v-card, am I?”

“Oh for crying out loud,” Barley groaned, his ears drooping a little. “I was afraid of this. I don’t want to scare you. I’m not going to make you try anything…”

“I don’t think I could,” Ian said. The look on Barley’s face was despairing, and Ian felt a pang of guilt. “Barley, get in here.”

Obeying, Barley stepped into the shower with him. Ian had to step back, and they found themselves bare and nose-to-nose. Ian leaned into him, loving how soft he was. He wrapped his arms around Barely’s neck and felt those big hands on his body again. It was the most addicting drug, being touched by this man. He could also feel Barley’s length pressing against his flat tummy. Just feeling it, it nearly reached his naval. His heart hammered away as he cuddled closer. “Is that what you were worried about?” 

“Maybe. Also the piercings.”

“The what now?”

“The piercings. You didn’t see?”

Barley took Ian’s hand and guided him to the underside of his length. Ian gulped at the feeling of him, his skin hot and velvet-soft, and intimidating. Ian ran his fingers along the underside until he felt a row of small metal studs. It felt like three pieces, six studs in total. 

“I had a weird phase. I can take them out if you hate them.”

“I… no…” It was a lot to take in. Mentally and physically. No wonder Barley was nervous. Ian should have been more nervous, but he was too damned relieved, and hell, he was so turned on. He had Barley: beautiful, perfect Barley, holding him close, Barley painfully hard just for him. Ian wrapped his fingers around his cock as much as he could and stroked him slowly. Barley’s brows drew together and he groaned. 

Barley moved Ian so easily, pressing him against the shower wall and crushing their lips together. It was as if the stagnant week had evaporated. Ian moaned into his mouth as Barley pressed his tongue between his lips. He gripped Ian more tightly, grinding against him in a way that had the metal studs rubbing against Ian’s own prick. He whimpered at the intense stimulation, but Barley was moving like an unstoppable train. Ian had unleashed something in him. 

The kiss broke and Barley bit at his neck, sucking hard. Ian tried to put his fingers through his hair but Barley grabbed his wrists, pinning them on either side of Ian’s head. He moved down to Ian’s chest, biting and sucking at one of his nipples, and then sinking lower to his knees. He let go of Ian’s wrist and pressed his tongue into Ian’s naval, a hand wrapping around his prick. 

Ian looked down at him, watching as Barley looked up at him with a fire in his eyes. Suddenly Barley was turning him around and firmly pushing him against the bathroom wall. 

“What are you doing?” Ian asked breathlessly, glancing behind him. 

But he didn’t need an answer. The answer was in Barley’s hands on his rear, spreading his cheeks. Ian tightened his entrance reflexively as it was exposed, and then gasped. Barley had leaned in, his tongue gliding upward over Ian’s puckered hole. 

“Ohh f-f-fuck!” Ian practically shrieked. Barley didn’t even hesitate before doing it again, licking his hole and all the way up the cleft of his ass. Ian was sure that he would come at any instant. There was no way it could feel better than this. And then he was proven wrong as Barley’s strong tongue shoved inside of him, past that tight ring of muscle. 

“Ohhhhhh God, Barley,” Ian whimpered, melting forward against the cold tiles. He felt Barley squeezing his ass with strong fingers as his tongue shoved inward and pulled out, pumping rhythmically and making Ian’s prick leak against the wall. 

Suddenly the tongue was withdrawn, and Barley was speaking to him. What did he say? “Wha?!”

“The oil. Pass me the oil.” 

Ian had to shake off the fog in his brain and look at the shower rack with blurred vision, and finally found a plain bottle of oil. He handed it to Barley with shaky fingers. He didn’t move or dare to twist around and look. Ian just waited. 

The bottle opened and snapped shut, and Ian felt Barley stand. One hand rested on his shoulder as Barley kissed his neck. The other hand was reaching downward, oil-slicked fingers running between his cheeks and pressing against his entrance. Ian gasped as he felt one finger push inside of him. 

“Relax,” Barley murmured gently. “It’s harder if you’re tense.”

“R-Right…” 

Ian took shaky breaths, and closed his eyes. He focused on the warm kisses on his neck, and Barley’s gentle touch. He felt the thick finger pushing deeper inside of him, and God, it was impossible to think of anything else. Ian rocked backward, trying to get it to go deeper. Barley chuckled against his skin and obliged, pushing his finger in all the way. He began a slow movement in and out, lazy thrusts that had Ian gasping and whining, his fingernails digging into the grout for dear life. 

“Want another?” Barley asked.

“Yes,” Ian said right away. “Please.” A second finger pushed its way in beside the first, a tight stretch that had Ian’s mouth falling open. “Yesss, please, more…” The second finger pushed in deeper and Ian rocked backward greedily until Barley pinned him with his own body. The two fingers pumped into him faster, and he whimpered as he felt them spread apart, the stretch growing just a little painful. He whined and Barley eased up. 

Ian couldn’t stand it any longer. “I need to come,” he begged. He reached for his prick and Barley pushed his hand away, instead doing it himself. 

“Ohh ffffffuck, Barley!” Ian whined as Barley jerked him off while pumping his fingers in and out of him. Ian cried out as he came, his body clenching hard around the fingers until Barley had to stop moving them. Ian spilled his load onto the wall in front of him. He was sure that he would collapse if Barley let go of him, but Barley didn’t. He held him gently and kissed his shoulder. 

“You okay?”

“Yes,” Ian said without hesitation. “Barley, I want you to come too. Come on, please. I know you need to.” He could feel Barley’s dick pressed firmly against his rear. 

“Okay,” Barley breathed. He grabbed the bottle of oil and slicked his cock, and Ian fleetingly wondered if he was going to actually fuck him. He felt a jolt of excitement in his tired body, but Barley didn’t. He added more oil to his hand and slicked the inside of Ian’s thighs, and then moved him into a new position. Ian felt as though they were in training, the way Barley pushed his back into an arch, his rear sticking out behind him. Ian held onto the wall as he heard his brother groan, rubbing at Ian’s sensitive hole. Barley was clearly wishing he could push inside. Would he?

No. But Ian was equally surprised as Barley aligned with him and pressed his skinny thighs together. Then he felt it, his brother’s thick length pushing between his thighs until Ian could look down and see it. Barley withdrew and pushed in again, and Ian felt it graze against his balls. He’d never thought of doing something like this. Ian squeezed his legs together, relishing the rumbling growl that erupted behind him. He kept his knees together as Barley thrust against him, slowly picking up momentum until he had to hold Ian’s hips still to keep him in place. Ian couldn’t help fantasizing about how it would feel inside of him.

“Fuck me,” he blurted out. “Please, Barley, I can take it. Please fuck me. Please.”

“Oh Ian, baby,” Barley managed to say. “You know I want to. I promise I will.”

Barley was suddenly fucking his thighs so hard Ian lost his hold on the wall, hands fumbling and slipping for purchase. But Barley was strong enough to hold him up, and slammed his hips against Ian’s ass hard and fast until Ian’s legs ached. And in one quick motion, Barley had pulled back and firmly pressed the head of his cock against Ian’s hole. There was no way he would enter him. Ian knew that despite his pleas, he couldn’t take that yet. He glanced back and saw Barley jerking himself off, and a second later he was biting back a groan. Hot cum pumped into Ian’s body from where they were pressed together, and Ian gasped from the feeling. When Barley finally moved back, pearly cream was gushing out of Ian and onto the shower floor.

Ian turned around and his legs buckled. Barley caught him, pulling him upright and holding him steady. Ian leaned back and Barley leaned against him. They panted, sharing the same steamy air. They kissed softly, tenderly, Barley raising a hand to lightly brush through Ian’s wet hair. Ian wrapped his arms around his brother again, and stayed there until the water ran cold.

Tbc.


	10. The Rainbow Shack

Ian gave Barley’s door a quick knock before walking in. He immediately grimaced, scrunching his nose. “Ugh, Barley it stinks in here. Like, worse than usual.” 

Barley was hunched over his desk, painting little figurines with a mounted magnifying glass. “Yeah, this paint gives off some nasty fumes. I should probably be wearing a mask.”

Moving to open the window, Ian said, “Actually, I think the paint fumes might be an improvement over the sweaty laundry smell.” He looked down at an old sock with distaste before kicking it toward the overflowing laundry basket. 

“As long as I still have clean underwear, I don’t see the point in washing a load. I’ll just wait until I’m in a dire situation, and then do it all at once.”

“Oh, of course,” Ian said, rolling his eyes. He went to sit on the bed, but couldn’t. It was cluttered with stacks of books. “What’re all your adventure novels doing out?” He began to pick them up, but the bedside table where he’d planned to put them had even more books on it, as well as a pretty nice looking microphone. “What’s this mic for?”

Barley was out of his seat in an instant. “Nothing, just… gaming… stuff. And I’ve been reorganizing my books. I’m thinking alphabetical is getting old, ya know? Organizing by author is far superior.”

“Uh huh,” Ian said with confusion as Barley took the stack of books out of his hands. In just a minute the bed was cleared, Barley’s books set aside and the microphone hastily hidden away in a drawer. 

Barley went back to his desk, and continued painting.

Ian made himself comfortable on Barley’s bed. “So… I want to talk to you about something.” 

Barley pulled back from the magnifying glass once more, and dropped his paintbrush into a jar of water. “Oh yeah? What’s going on?”

Ian felt momentarily smug by Barley’s quick turn of attention. But he didn’t want to tease him too much, as it wasn’t actually bad news. In fact, if either of them should have felt nervous, it would be Ian. “So I’ve been thinking about making a video blog about magic. I got the idea from working on my senior project. A lot of people in school are still interested in it even after all this time. I’d try to make the blog informative, and I could even teach magic to anyone out there who might also have a staff.” Ian realized he’d been staring at his hands as he spoke, fingers twisting into the blanket. He looked up at Barley. “What do you think? Is it too narcissistic?”

Barley looked ready to explode. “Pff! No! Are you kidding?! I love that idea! My little brother, a social media influencer!”

Completely embarrassed, Ian covered his face with his hands. “Oh God Barley, nooo..” 

The scrape of a chair caught Ian’s attention and he moved his hands. Barley came over to the bed, sitting at the foot and facing him. “But really, that idea is fantastic. Who knows how many staffs are still out there, collecting dust in some museum or in a private collection? And even the people who can’t do magic would be into it. Anyone who plays Quests of Yore would want to watch your videos for sure. History buffs too.”

Wide eyes watched Barley as Ian listened, a small smile on his face. “You really think so?”

“Hell yes! Oh man, I’m so pumped!” Barley was on his feet, grabbing Ian’s arm and pulling him along with him. “Come on, we’re going to get you a good camera.”

“With what money?” Ian laughed. 

“Correction, we’re going to get you a mildly-respectable camera!”

\---

The closest electronics shop in town was the Rainbow Shack, which was in the strip mall beside the comic book shop. Barley and Ian parked, and walked in a curve to avoid being seen by a certain ex-boyfriend. The Rainbow Shack had a selection of cameras, and virtually all of them were better than Ian's phone. Barley examined a tripod while Ian read the details on one of the camera’s packaging. 

“Well, we’re definitely getting this,” Barley said, indicating to the tripod. He brought it to the register and then returned to Ian, looking over his shoulder at the camera. That's when Barley happened to breathe in the scent of Ian, which was oddly outdoorsy for an indoor boy. Had Ian been using Barley's soap? Well, that was new. Barley began to picture Ian in the shower again, this time alone and sudsing himself up with his brother’s soap. Creamy white bubbles slid down Ian’s naked body, pooling in the crease of his petite rear end before sliding farther down. Unable to help himself, Barley rested his hand on the small of Ian’s back. 

Ian jumped a little, and turned to look up at Barley with an owlish expression. Barley flashed him a teasing smile. His hand slid down farther, and gave Ian a light squeeze. He leaned in and said, “We could also use the camera for other extra curricular activities. Make some memories, huh?”

Flushing scarlet, Ian opened his mouth to object, but stopped when the bell above the shop door tinkled. Barley dropped his hand. They wouldn’t have been seen by the employee, who was sitting behind the counter, but someone coming in could have seen. But oddly enough, no one had entered. Or had someone just left? They were being careless. 

Exhaling, Ian elbowed Barley in the side. He hardly moved from the gesture, but at least he looked appropriately ashamed. “Sorry.”

“That was way too risky,” Ian chided. “Everyone you know goes to the comic book shop. And my ex.”

Nodding, Barley scratched the back of his neck. At the register they pooled their money and checked out, and then headed home. 

\---

When they entered the house, they were surprised to hear their mom in the kitchen, clearing her throat emphatically. “A word, please…” she called out.

Ian felt his stomach twist a little as he wondered what she wanted with that tone of voice. Beside him, Barley looked equally uncomfortable. They walked into the kitchen and found Laurel leaning against the counter, where layed an unopened letter. She looked at Ian pointedly. “That’s for you. Care to share?”

Completely lost, Ian moved to pick up the letter. He turned it over, and was surprised to see the stamped return address. 

“Flamel University,” Laurel said, just as he read those words at the top of the address. Ian’s stomach went from turning to completely flipping. “Ian, did you apply there?”

Ian glanced at Barley and back to his mom, both of whom were watching him with surprise. “Yeah, it was a while ago. I wasn’t even serious, really.” Of course, that last part was a lie.

Barley was strangely quiet, and Ian felt his discomfort grow. His mom, however, looked very curious. “Well? What does it say?”

Ian stared down at the letter before turning it over and running his finger under the flap. He tore it open and set the envelope aside, and opened the paper. His eyes ran along the words and then stopped after the first paragraph. He was frozen. “I… I got in.”

Laurel startled them both with a thrilled squeal. She threw her arms around him, wailing happily. “Oh my goodness- Oh Ian I’m so proud! This is so exciting! I thought you were going to take a gap year too. I had no idea you were even applying yet!” She glanced at Barley. “Not that there’s anything wrong with a gap year! Your father and I both took one.”

Ian patted his mom’s back as she hugged him, still feeling stunned. Flamel had an extremely low acceptance rate. He glanced at Barley, who smiled at him strangely. 

Laurel pulled away and took the letter, reading it over. Barley patted Ian’s shoulder supportively as they waited. Barley was about to speak when Laurel said, “Oh honey, you’ve got a partial scholarship too!”

“What? Really?”

“Yes, did you even read this?!”

“Just the first paragraph…”

Their mother was tearing up now, her hand on her chest. “Ian, you’re growing up so fast.” She grabbed him again, yanking him close. “Both of you are!” And then Ian felt Barley being pulled in beside him. 

The celebration went on a while longer. Laurel made a special dinner and opened a bottle of mulled wine, allowing Ian to have a small glass along with Barley and herself. But every time Ian caught Barley’s eye, his brother would glance away. After dinner, Barley excused himself to his van. Ian waited for a while, the minutes ticking on until he could no longer stand it. He went out after him, and opened the side door. Barley was sitting on a beanbag chair, listening to something on his headphones. He pulled the buds from his ears as Ian climbed in and shut the door. 

“Hi,” Ian said as he delicately seated himself in the second beanbag chair. It was difficult to be serious, sitting this way. 

Barley smiled at him. “Hey, man. I just got distracted out here.”

“Right,” Ian said, nodding. But he was feeling even worse now. “Hey, I um… I want to apologize. About Flamel.”

Barley looked torn, as if he was tempted to deny that anything was wrong. But he opted for sincerity. “You shouldn’t apologize, Ian. This is a big deal for you. I guess I’m just surprised. I would have expected you to tell me that you applied. I didn’t know you were applying anywhere yet. And like Mom said, I thought you were taking a year off. I thought I’d… have you longer.” 

Ian bit his lip. They weren’t that far apart, but it still felt too far away. “I… I started applying to schools when I fell for you. I was in a really bad place, Barley. I felt like getting away was the only chance I had to… get over you, I guess?” 

“So you applied to other schools that were far away too, huh?”

Ian nodded. He was tearing up, and he scrubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands. 

“Hey,” Barley said gently. 

Ian looked at him, and Barley was reaching his way. “There’s room for you on my beanbag, Iandore. C’mere.” 

Ian accepted immediately, climbing on top of Barley and settling in his lap. He put his head on Barley’s shoulder, soaking up his brother’s affection. Barley was soft and strong and an unrivaled comfort both physically and emotionally.

Barley mumbled, “You know, there are going to be a lot of rich, academic types at Flamel…”

Ian straightened up, twisting around so he could look at Barley directly. “Whoa, hold up! What happened to my fearless, confident brother? You’re starting to sound like me.”

Rolling his eyes, Barley said, “Give yourself some credit. You’re not the huge fraidy cat you used to be.”

“Hey!” Ian protested, pinching one of Barley’s pecs and giving it a twist. 

“Ouch! You little-”

They began to grapple, and somehow Ian threw his leg over Barley to try and gain the upper hand. Now straddling him, Barley was suddenly distracted, his movements slowing down. They came to a draw when they had one anothers’ fingers laced together, neither able to grab the other. 

Ian leaned in, kissing Barley softly. “If you’re worried about some rich college guys, then I don’t think you know how much I love you.”

Barley didn’t open his eyes. They stayed that way, foreheads pressed together. “What if you deserve better than me?”

Ian just smiled in response, and Barley could feel the smile in his tone. “Yeah, that confirms it. You really have no idea. And if anything, I’m the lucky one. I… I know I didn’t always treat you right. Some of the things I said when we were trying to get dad back…”

Barley had brought Ian’s hand to his face, and was kissing his wrist. 

“Barley…” Ian said quietly. “I don’t have to go.”

The kisses stopped, and Barley looked up at him. “What?”

“I don’t have to go to Flamel. It doesn’t really matter to me. I could go to the local college with you. We could be together!” 

“Ian!” Barley said, sounding appalled. “Don’t you dare! You know where that trope always leads!”

“Sorry, what?”

“It leads to resentment! And even if you didn’t feel badly, I sure as hell would! I’m not going to let you give this up for anything! Even at risk of exposing you to a bunch of brainy college studs!” Ian started to speak and Barley cut him off. “Ian. You have worked so hard. Harder than I ever cared to work. You deserve this. This is your adventure!”

“Barley,” Ian whined. “I don’t want to have adventures without you. Now that we’re… now that you know, now that you like me back, it’s not going to be so easy for me to just pack up and bail.”

“Ian, I will beat your ass if you pass up on this opportunity.”

“Pfft. Sure. You’ve never pummeled me once in my entire life.”

“There’s a first time for everything! And anyway, it’ll kill Mom if you don’t go.”

Ian didn’t have a retort for that. It was probably true. And the second truth was, besides his relationship with Barley, Ian really did want to go. He sighed heavily. 

“Cheer up, man. It’ll all work out.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Barley took his face in his large hands, making Ian face him nose-to-nose. His expression was warm and confident. “Ian, it’ll all work out. I promise.”

Tbc.


	11. Laurel

A velvety blue night sky stretched out over them. It was dotted with stars and lined with distant mountains, illuminated by the dregs of a sunset. Barley and Ian were sprawled out on a blanket, on the roof of Barley’s van. A passing breeze interrupted the warm air, and Ian shivered. He moved closer to Barley, resting his head on his brother’s shoulder. 

“I need to come clean,” Barley said out of nowhere.

Ian’s brows drew together with worry. “About what?”

“About my major. I don’t think accounting is what I really want to do.”

Ian relaxed again, glad that it wasn’t something more personal. It took a moment for him to answer. “Uh… yeah, no kidding.”

Barley turned to look at him. “Seriously? You’re not surprised?”

Ian laughed. “Look. I know it’s what Dad did, but I could never picture you doing something so… I don’t know. Ian-like.”

Barley chuckled. “Ian-like? What’s that mean? Is that what you want to do?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“No!” Barley barked in disbelief. “For real?”

“Yes, for real! I’d be really good at it, don’t you think?”

“Of course, but don’t you want to do something with magic?”

“Well, no, honestly,” Ian said. “It’s not like there’s a stable career relating to magic. Besides working in some musty museum. But more importantly, I don’t want to rely on magic to pay the bills. It’s something special to me. It’s about us, and it’s about Dad. I don’t want it to be ‘work’.” Ian sat up. “And I know that phrase, ‘Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life,’ but it’s just-”

Ian stopped when a warm hand dropped onto his knee. He glanced sideways at Barley, who was smiling at him gently. “You don’t have to defend yourself to me, man. If you want to do accounting, then do it. I support you.”

“I… appreciate that,” Ian said, settling back down. He positioned himself sideways in order to face Barley. “But back to you, and the hating-your-major thing. What are you going to do? Change majors?”

Barley made a funny face, as if he were making a decision. And then he sat up and swung his legs off the edge of the van, hopping down. “Come on,” he said, reaching up. Ian sat on the edge and reached down to hold onto Barley’s shoulders. Barley took his waist and lifted him off, setting him on the ground. Ian felt a twinge of embarrassment and pleasure, and was happily flushed from the motion. Barley had always been one to help him with things, but he’d seamlessly transitioned into a cuter dynamic after the Renaissance Faire. Ian watched as Barley pulled the blanket off the roof and spread it out inside. 

They settled down once more, sitting on the blanket again. Barley turned on the soft light and began rummaging through one of his boxes until he returned with one of his fantasy novels.

“Alllll-right! Are you ready, Sir Iandore?”

“Pff, for what? Story time?”

“That it is, my fine fellow! Now that you have procured yourself a seat, I shall begin our journey.” Barley licked a finger and began flipping through introductory pages.

“What does this have to do with your major?”

“Thou hast only to listen and ye shall find out.”

Ian crossed his arms and leaned back against one of the beanbags. Barley was sitting up straight, holding the book out in front of him and gesturing with his free arm as he spoke. 

“Captain McHallister was not a patient elf! He’d endured the rough southern seas, filled with deadly serpents and even deadlier storms. He’d roughed the harsh northern winters, shattering frozen channels with the unbreakable bow of his ship. He’d married not the finest, but the most cutthroat of maidens…”

Ian listened on and on. Eventually he gave up on getting a straight answer out of Barley, and made himself more comfortable, moving to the other man’s lap. He snuggled in against Barley’s leg as he read, listening to the story until he’d become completely engrossed in it. Barley read aloud with the same passion he had for adventuring and tabletop gaming. He was a natural.

Barley closed the book and Ian blinked. “Wha..?”

“That was the end of chapter one.”

“Oh, really? Already?”

“Yeah.”

“It was so good,” Ian mused, wondering if it would be too much to ask Barley to continue.

“I know! This author is the bomb.” 

Finally remembering how they’d started, Ian asked, “So now are you going to tell me what this is all about? Unless you’re telling me you want to become a pirate captain.”

Barley chuckled, but he sounded a little nervous. “Not quite. I uh...” He trailed off. Ian sat up, sensing Barley’s discomfort. He turned to face him and took Barley’s hand, and Barley reddened in response. Glancing away, Barley spoke with an uncharacteristic shyness. “I’d really like to… er, narrate. Audiobooks. High fantasy and adventure, you know? That sort of thing.”

Ian didn’t answer right away, his mouth hanging open as he took this in. Suddenly he was remembering when they were kids, how Barley would read to him. Sometimes they’d find that a story dragged on, and Barley would close the book and improvise. He’d wave his arms and climb onto the bed over Ian, raving about knights and dragons, about noble wizards and evil sorcerers. And now that he remembered, Barley had been pretty suspicious in regards to the microphone beside his bed. Finally Ian answered. “That’s… kind of perfect you.” He squeezed Barley’s hand as their eyes met again. 

Barley looked unsure. “You really think so? I was expecting you to be more… surprised? Unsure?”

Ian thought about that. “I mean, honestly I don’t know if I could ever picture you being happy doing a job-job, you know? And I’ve always thought it was a little insane that you chose accounting.”

Barley laughed, sounding more at ease than he’d been before. He said, “The thing is, stories are adventures. You may be a wizard, but most people aren’t. This is my own way to bring magic to the world. I know that I’m good at it, and it’s what I want to do. I’m really, really sure.” 

Ian beamed at him. His heart felt full. 

Barley’s brow quirked. “What?”

“I just love it. I’m so proud of you.”

“Psh, aw jeez,” Barley said, rolling his eyes and shifting awkwardly. But he was obviously pleased.

“I’m serious,” Ian said, slowly moving to straddle Barley’s lap. He kissed him slowly, shivering as he felt a broad hand roam up his spine. 

But they both stopped when their phones simultaneously chimed. It could only be their mother. Ian groaned, burying his face in Barley’s neck as Barley checked. “Yeah, group text from Mom. We gotta get home. It’s almost your bedtime.”

“Ugh, shut up,” Ian complained, shoving Barley’s chest as he climbed off. 

“Her words, not mine,” Barley chuckled as they moved to the seats upfront, and Barley started the engine. The van made a terrible choking sound before finally roaring to life. They’d both paused before Barley said, “I’m gonna have to get that checked out.”

Meanwhile Ian checked his messages, and saw the one from their mom. “Hey, those were not her words,” he objected. “There’s nothing about bedtime. She only said, “It’s a school night’.”

“Same thing!” Barley insisted, shifting into ‘O’.

\---

The next day Ian had to ride the bus, what with Guenivere II making disconcerting noises. As the last bell rang at the end of the day, Ian checked his phone and saw a text from Barley. 

_ ‘Finishing up at the shop.    
Wont be there in time to pick u up.    
Take the bus.    
_ _XOXO._ ’

Ian snorted, and went to his locker to pack. 

The bus ride made him more grateful than ever for not having to be on it every day. It was long and un-airconditioned, and the ogre in front of him smelled like he’d been lying on the side of the road a few days. 

Ian's phone chimed and he checked it, finding another text from Barley.

_ ‘Just got out.    
_ _Look behind u_ ’

Ian turned around to look out the back window, and saw Barley’s van. They were stopped at a light, and Barley was waving emphatically. Ian gave him a single, polite wave. He texted him back that he should not be texting while driving, and watched as Barley dropped his phone on the passenger seat like he was dropping a mic.

Once the bus pulled up to their house, Ian climbed off and frowned. There was a shabby green sedan parked in the driveway behind his mom’s car. Barley had parked on the street and walked up to him, and they stared at it together.

“Is that Baxter’s car?” Barley asked, his voice low.

“Yeah,” Ian said, feeling dread in the pit of his stomach. 

“I guess he’s in there with Mom. What do you think he wants? To get back with you?”

“I have no idea,” Ian said, but he didn’t think so. The look of hurt and disgust on Baxter’s face in that moment when Ian had accidentally said Barley’s name could not be easily forgotten.

They walked up to the door and Ian opened it, only to find Baxter standing right there. He looked at Ian and then at Barley behind him, and the color drained from his face. But then he grimaced at them, looking positively irate. It was an ugly, unsettling look that Ian had never seen when they were together. He shoved forward, pushing Ian out of the way and bumping shoulders with Barley as he passed. Barley steadied Ian as they watched him go.

“Bax?” Ian called out, but his ex didn’t even look back. He climbed into his green car, backed out and zoomed off down the street. 

“What the hell?” Barley murmured.

Ian was equally confused. Their mom must know something. They went inside, and found Laurel standing in the living room. She was staring at the unlit fireplace.

“Hey Mom,” Ian said. “What was uh… what was Baxter doing here?”

“Oh just being crazy,” Laurel said in the most peculiar voice, like she was trying to be casual. The two boys stood by the door as she turned to look at them. “He’s obviously not taking the breakup well, although I don’t know why he waited this long to go coocoo. He came here to accuse you two of having a.. Hah… a sexual relationship! Crazy, right?” Her laugh was bizarre, and Ian and Barley laughed nervously along with her. Laurel continued. “The thing is, he had a photo on his phone, of the two of you in a store. You know? To back up his story.” She was looking at Barley now. “You were groping your brother. I don’t know how he’d fake that.” 

Laurel went to the table and sat, and the two of them had to take a few steps farther inside to see her clearly again. It was obvious to Ian that she was caught somewhere between denial and acceptance. Ian felt like he was going to be sick. He was too afraid to look at Barley.

“Mom…” he said softly. 

“Is it true?” Laurel turned quite suddenly, her eyes shining with intensity. Her gaze was fixed on Barley. Barley opened his mouth to speak, but Laurel cut him off. “No, I don’t know why I’m asking, I saw the photo. It has to be true then, huh? And you two spending all this extra time together these days. All of the weird behavior, Ian acting out of sorts. And I thought it had been about his breakup with Bax.”

Neither of the boys dared to make a sound. They just stood there and waited. Laurel turned around to face the table. After a while Ian took a step closer and reached for her. “Mom?” He touched her shoulder and she twisted away from him, quickly standing up, her hands in front of her. 

“No, I just can’t-” Laurel was crying now, and once again faced Barley. “Barley, how could you?! He’s your little brother! God, I can’t even- have you two slept together?”

“N-No,” Barley stammered. “W-Well, no, no we haven’t…”

Ian winced. He knew full well that what they’d done in the shower at least counted for something, and he knew Barley was having trouble with that. 

“You’re lying,” Laurel said, mostly correct. “Oh my God,” She covered her face.

Barley’s eyes were glassy, his expression broken. “Mom,” he whimpered, “I’m so sorry. Please.” 

This time, Barley reached for her. Laurel pulled her arm out of his reach. “Don’t! Don’t touch me! How could you do this, Barley?!” 

It was as if Ian had been under a petrification spell, and it had suddenly worn off. Ian threw himself between them, shoved into the small space, facing his mother. He protectively pushed Barley back. “STOP IT!” Ian shouted. Laurel looked stunned. Ian turned and glanced over his shoulder at Barley. His older brother was nearly in tears. “I need to talk to mom. Alone.” The prospect seemed to terrify Barley even further, but Ian gave him a firm look. Barley slipped out sideways and walked away, around the corner to his room. The door shut firmly. Finally Laurel and Ian were alone.

“You can’t blame him,” Ian said instantly. “It was all me. I liked him first. I… initiated it. Everything. And I swear, he didn’t just cave in at the drop of a hat. Please, I’m the one you should be mad at. I’m the one who’s… screwed up.” 

Laurel looked both confused and devastated. “Honey, you are only eighteen years old. You’re barely an adult, but your brother is a man! Regardless of who started what, he needs to be held accountable.”

“No Mom, just stop it with that!” Ian shouted. “Stop treating me like the baby! We’re only three years apart! Just yesterday you were talking about how grown up I was, and now I can’t even be held accountable for my own actions? And stop treating Barley like he’s supposed to be my Dad! Stop acting like Barley doesn’t need you just as much as I do, because he does! Probably more!”

“What are you saying, Ian? That this is my fault? Is this my fault?”

Ian was stunned when he realized that it was a serious question. But he frowned, unable to let go of what had just happened with his brother. “No, it’s mine. You can blame Barley too if you want, but I started it. Me.”

Laurel turned away, pacing over to the fireplace. She looked up at the mounted bookshelves, and then at the floor. “This has to stop,” she said. 

“Yeah,” Ian said. But he was lying. He wouldn’t give up Barley for anything. “It has to stop anyway, what with me going to Flamel.

Laurel turned around. “At the end of the summer? No, I mean right this moment. I don’t want you two alone together anymore. Not for a minute.” 

“Mom!” Ian objected angrily. 

“You are in my house, and these are my rules, Iandore! I do not want you two alone together! Do you understand me?”

“Yeah, I understand you,” Ian said angrily. He turned to leave, needing to get away from his mother before he said anything he couldn’t take back. He stormed up the stairs. Before Ian reached his room, he heard his mom knocking at his brother’s door downstairs, calling to him softly. 

Ian closed his own door and paced around his room, fingernails digging into his palms. He looked out the window, sat and then stood again, and leaned his back against the door. Finally he pulled out his phone and texted Barley, asking if he wanted him to sneak downstairs after their mom had gone to bed. Barley responded a few minutes later.

_ ‘I think I need to be alone.   
_ _But thanks_.’

Ian stared at the text. There was nothing reassuring in it about them, about where they stood. Ian set down his phone and lied back in bed. The evening stretched out forever. Laurel knocked and asked if she could make him anything to eat, and he declined. Hours passed. When it grew late, Ian finally fell asleep, curled up on his bed, fully clothed.

The next morning he got up and checked his phone, and there was another text from Barley. 

_ ‘I’m sorry.    
_ _Don’t be mad_.’

Immediately, Ian went to his door, needing to talk to Barley right away. He opened it quietly, and saw that his mother’s door was still shut. He crept downstairs, turned the corner and walked over to Barley’s door. To his surprise, the door was ajar. He opened it and stepped inside, and his mouth fell open.

The room was stripped. Barley’s pillow and blanket were gone. The clothes had been pulled off the hangers, and there was an empty place on his desk where his laptop had been. Many of the books were missing. The nightstand where he’d kept the microphone had been left open, and it was empty. Barley was gone.

Tbc.


	12. The School Bus

Ian could not find it in himself to pay attention as his history teacher rambled on about the Mermaid Wars of 1900. He opened his textbook to where he was concealing his phone, but there were no new messages. Still, he stared down at the last text he’d sent to Barley, from that morning.

‘ _ Please talk to me. _ _  
_ _ Barley?? _ _  
_ _ Tell me you’re alright. _ _  
_ _ Barley…. _ _  
_ _ I need to see you _ .’   
  
Rereading it now, Ian felt stupid. It sounded pathetic to him. Cliche. And yet, it was the simplest truth. Suddenly, as he was staring at the screen, a new message from Barley popped up. Ian took in a breath as he read.

‘ _ Get to the bus asap after the last bell.  _ _  
_ _ We’ll have a few minutes to talk _ ’

Immediately Ian replied that he would. And then the last two classes dragged on even more painfully, before the final bell rang. Ian darted down the hall, not bothering to collect things from his locker for homework. He headed straight outside to the line of busses, and saw his brother waiting on the curb. 

It had only been a day, but Ian’s relief was tremendous. “Barley!” he shouted, running for him. 

Barley smiled sadly in return. Ian suddenly stopped a few feet away, as if he’d only just remembered that he couldn’t fling his arms around him here. Barley’s look was pained, and Ian’s expression was desperate. 

Barley finally spoke first. “Hey.”

Ian’s brows drew together. “Hey?! Is that what you came here to say?” Barley started to speak but Ian cut him off. “Barley, you freaking moved out in the middle of the night! And all you said to me was, ‘don’t be mad’? How could I not be? You left me! You left me with Mom!” 

Barley sighed. “Don’t be mad at Mom.” 

Ian glared at him, unable to forgive her so quickly. But then his frown faltered, changing into worry. “Barely… are we still…?”

It took Barley a minute to answer. “I know we shouldn’t. And I promised Mom that we wouldn’t...”

“...But?” Ian asked, hopeful. 

His brother’s expression looked guilty. But then the corner of his mouth turned up into a smile, and it was everything Ian needed. It was the understanding between them in its simplest form. Barley wasn’t about to give up on them. He said, “I moved out because I wouldn’t be able to stand Mom getting upset every time I so much as looked at you. It’d be torture.”

Ian released a breath. “Can’t blame you there…”

“If we’re going to keep Mom from having a mental breakdown, we’re going to have to be smart about it. About us, I mean.”

“R-Right,” Ian said, shaken by the immense relief he was feeling. 

The other students began to filter out of the school, passing by them on their way to the different busses. Ian took a step closer now, so that they’d still be able to talk.

“Where are you staying?”

“With a buddy of mine,” Barley said. “Just for now.”

“What are you going to do?” Ian asked, not sure what he was really asking.

Barley chewed on his lip. “I have a plan. I’m-”

But they were interrupted by the roar of engines as the busses got ready to leave. They looked at one another with miserable longing. “You promise I’ll see you soon?”

They were cut off as a bus driver shouted at Ian. “Hey! Kid! Are you getting on?” 

Ignoring him, Ian said, “Do you promise?” 

“I’ll do my best,” Barley said, with a smile that Ian could see right through. 

Ian’s brows drew together, but he had to go. He climbed onto the bus, the doors shutting before he’d reached the top step. He took a seat and watched Barley out the window as the bus drove away. 

\---

When Ian reached home and walked in the door, he saw his mother sitting on the couch with her work laptop. She looked exhausted as she glanced his way. “Hey sweetie.”

“Hey,” Ian said, almost inaudibly. He went upstairs without another word, and dropped his bag on the floor. He’d left all his books at school, and had nothing to work on. Not that he would have been able to concentrate.

Then after a moment he picked up his phone, scrolled through his contacts and dialed. The phone rang, and eventually a familiar voice answered.

“...Hello?”

Tensely, Ian said, “Hello, Bax.”

There was a long pause before Baxter cooly answered him. “Hi, Ian. How are you?”

Ian laughed shortly. “Oh, I’m great. Real peachy.”

“Wonderful. So, what do you want?”

“What do I want?! You’re the one who came into my house and tattled on me to my freaking mother! What’s your endgame here, Baxter?”

“My endgame?” Baxter repeated angrily. “To put a stop to your… sickness! That’s what you are, Ian. You’re sick in the head. And I bet you don’t even care how much you hurt me, because you were just using me as a substitute for your fucked up incest fantisies.” 

“No,” Ian said quickly, color spreading over his face. “Listen to me, I did not… I didn’t mean… it wasn’t like that at first-”

“I really don’t want to hear the details,” Baxter cut in. “I had REAL feelings for you! You let me think that you liked me! I wanted to be with you forever! When I left you, the only thing that made me feel better was knowing that you were alone now, and that you didn’t have anybody else to use for your sick fantasies.”

Ian was gripping his phone as tightly as he could. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said. “But that still doesn’t give you the right to do what you did! You have no idea what you’ve done to my family!”

Baxter laughed. “You’re the one who did it, Ian. You’re the little freak who seduced your brother, which I’m sure is somehow tied in with your pathetic daddy issues. When I saw you in the store, with your brother feeling you up and whispering in your ear, I could not let that go. I couldn’t let you get away with being happy after what you did to me.”

There was silence then, as Ian didn’t have a voice to answer with. He sat there frozen. After a while he managed to swallow, and then to speak. “Well, you got me. I didn’t get away with being happy.”

“Good. Now, is there anything else you wanted to say before I get on with my afternoon?”

Ian felt hollow. Deflated. Half-heartedly he said, “Um… yeah… I guess the point of my call was to tell you that if you showed up at my house again, that I’d use magic to light you on fire.”

“Ah.”

“Also, I’m really glad I didn’t let you fuck me with that tiny dick of yours.”

“Oh fuck you, Ian!” Baxter shouted before hanging up.

Ian pulled the phone away from his ear and set it on the table. He wanted to feel better, but the call hadn’t given him a shred of peace or satisfaction. 

\---

Later that evening, Laurel called out to Ian from the kitchen, and he came downstairs. She’d already made herself a plate, and Ian went to the stove to make himself one as well. It was creamy mushroom spaghetti, something she used to make when they were kids. Ian started for the door, intent on eating upstairs, but Laurel spoke. “Would you eat with me?”

Ian hesitated. “I uh…” but then he paused, noticing his mother’s planner laying open on the counter. In red letters she’d written something on her calendar. An appointment set for a few weeks from now.

“Therapy?!” Ian said, reading the words. He looked at her angrily. “Did you seriously sign me up for therapy?”

Laurel glanced back at her own plate, pushing her food around. “That’s for me.”

Ian felt guilty instantly. He sighed and went to the table, taking a seat across from her. 

“I was hoping to find someone I could talk to about all of this. Someone private. I’m sure you wouldn’t want me confiding in Colt or Corey.”

Ian paled. “N-No… Please don’t do that.”

They ate quietly for a while, although neither of them seemed very hungry. It was Laurel who finally broke the silence. “Ian…? I was wondering if you would feel comfortable telling me more about... the situation. I know this is awkward for you, and it’s awkward for me too. I just want to understand.”

Dread swept over Ian. “What do you want to know?”

Laurel said, “Well, when did it start?”

“When did... what start?”

Laurel rubbed her forehead, and Ian was glad he wasn’t the only one who probably wanted to disappear at that moment. She said, “When did you two… start to like each other? In this… this way that you do?”

“After Baxter. Well, I um… I think I liked Barley a lot longer. But when I was dating Bax, that’s when I realized it.”

Laurel nodded. “And Barley?”

“...I uh… I accidentally told Barley recently. After the breakup. A little while later he liked me back.” 

“And…” Laurel pulled off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Have you two… slept together?”

“No,” Ian said quickly. 

“I would like to believe that. But that’s what Barley said, and he’s not a good liar.”

Ian wished more than ever that he could melt onto the floor and vanish. “It’s… mostly the truth. R-really.”

Nodding, Laurel put her fork down. She was clearly finished trying to eat. She asked, “Why… why did this happen?”

Ian stared at her. It was the easiest question so far. “Because nobody is better than Barley.”

Laurel stared back at him, waiting for Ian to expand upon that. But he was finished explaining. She nodded. “Well, I do agree with you there. You’re the two best boys in the world.” She sighed, and then covered her face. Ian looked horrified as he heard a stifled sob behind her hands. 

“Mom…!” Ian stood up and moved around the table, wrapping his arms around her. Laurel leaned against him, her breath shaky as she sniffled. 

“I never meant to drive Barley away,” she cried. “I just… I was so overwhelmed, and I thought that keeping you two apart was the right thing to do. B-But Barley wouldn’t open the door last night. I couldn’t talk to him, I couldn’t tell him that I still loved him. And you were right, I’ve been putting too much pressure on him, expecting him to be strong when I should have let him be vulnerable.”

Ian pressed his nose against her hair, holding her tightly. “If Barley were here, he’d probably tell you that neither of us are trying to hurt you.”

“I know, I know…” She wiped her eyes.

“I’m sure Barley will be home soon. He’s got to.” 

Laurel pulled away from Ian so that she could look at him. “Honey… I don’t think so.”

Ian looked at her with alarm. “Why not?”

Laurel looked hesitant, but she continued. “Your brother has a joint savings account with me. I’m only connected so that I can pay him for extra work he does. That’s why I was notified when he emptied it this morning. He withdrew everything.”

Ian’s mouth hung open. “What… what about classes? He’s still got to go to school.”

Laurel looked like she was going to cry again. She shook her head. “He dropped out, Ian.” 

\---

After Laurel fell asleep on the couch, Ian turned off the TV and walked quietly out of the room. He went out the back door to avoid waking her, and walked down to the end of the driveway. A blanket of clouds drifted overhead, blocking out the moon and stars. The air was warm, but there was something unsettling about it, like a storm was on the way. Ian pulled out his phone and called Barley.

The phone rang a few times before Barley answered. The sound was distorted by that of the van’s engine. 

“Hey Ian,” Barley said softly.

“You on the road?” 

“Yeah.”

“You shouldn’t be on the phone while you’re driving.”

“Oh, you know I couldn’t let my favorite wizard go to voicemail.”

Ian bit his lip and smiled. He began to wander down the sidewalk, the breeze pushing him from behind. “Listen, Mom told me about the money. And that you left school. How could you not tell me about that?”

“I only decided today.”

“What are you going to do?”

Barley sighed. “I’m… going away for a while. I actually meant to say goodbye at the school, but we ran out of time. I need to figure some things out.”

“But I want to help you! I want to be there for you!”

“I know,” Barley said gently. “It’s something I have to do on my own. And this is an important time for you. I don’t want to be a distraction. You should be focusing on school and going to Flamel. You’re still planning to go, right? Please tell me you are.”

“I am,” Ian said. “But that’s months away.” Ian stopped walking, horrified as realization dawned on him. “Barley… are you planning on being gone for that long?!”

“Hey, hey, take a deep breath,” Barley said. Ian held himself as he listened, wanting more than ever to bury his face in his brother’s chest and wrap his arms around him. He took in a breath and then exhaled. Barley said, “I’m doing this for us, and you’re going to have to trust me. I love you, Ian.” 

Ian found it difficult to breathe. He had said those words to Barley many times since the Renaissance Faire, but this was the first time Barley had said it back to him. “I love you too,” Ian said quietly. 

“I’ve got a turn coming up,” Barley said. “I should probably go.”

“Right…” Ian said. “Okay. Talk to you soon.”

Tbc.


	13. The Video Chat

It was graduation day. As Ian walked up the steps and across the stage, he glanced at the sea of people applauding. He caught sight of a row of familiar faces. There was his mom, Colt, and Corey. He saw some of his classmates’ parents as well. But as he expected, he did not see his brother. They spoke every day on the phone, but he hadn’t seen him in person for over six weeks. 

Ian shook hands with the principal, received his diploma, and walked off stage. Settled back in his seat, he would have to wait another thirty minutes or more for students from L to Z to walk. He stealthily pulled out his phone, glancing down for something to occupy him. He blinked, surprised as he opened a text from Barley. It was a poorly-taken photo of Ian, walking across the stage! The photograph had been taken from far away, somewhere in the back. 

Twisting around in his seat, he looked through the endless heads, horns and feathers, for Barley. But he didn’t see him anywhere. There’d been a long text from Barley as well, and Ian faced forward in order to read it. 

‘Lookin cute in that cap n gown ;)  
But seriously.. I wish I could stay after, but I can’t.  
I’m not ready to run into mom, and I’ve got a long ride back.  
It was worth it though! I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I am so proud of you.’

\---

It was the dead of summer. Ian was sprawled out on the couch, a bag of frozen peas resting on his forehead. 

“Well I’m heading to the conference,” Laurel said as she rolled her suitcase to the door. 

Ian lifted the peas in order to look at her. “How can you wear that suit in this weather?”

Chuckling, Laurel said, “Well I can’t very well go looking like you.” Ian was wearing a loose tank top and fitted jean shorts. He tugged at the tank top, which was sticking to his chest. Laurel continued, “And please put those back in the freezer soon, I don’t want them to go to waste.”

“I’ve got it,” Ian promised.

“You’ll be alright this weekend? Did you make any plans with friends?”

“I’ll be fine, Mom,” Ian said with a smile. “Just go do your thing, and don’t work too hard.”

Laurel looked at him affectionately, and blew him a kiss. He watched her go, and watched the door close behind her. The second the lock clicked, Ian bolted off of the couch. Begrudgingly he made a dash to the kitchen to put the peas away, and then he went up the stairs two at a time. 

In his room he pulled out a package from beneath the bed, an unopened parcel the size of a shoebox. The return address was from a shipping company, giving no clues as to Barley’s whereabouts. Ian threw himself onto his bed, the package beside him as he dialed Barley for a video chat.

The phone only rang once before Barley picked up. Ian beamed at him, and Barley grinned in return. Barley was in the back of his van, his phone most likely propped on a box or two. Even with the small screen and poor lighting, Barley was a gift to be seen. It was just what Ian needed.

“She’s gone for the weekend,” Ian said.

“And you haven’t opened the box yet?”

“No,” Ian said, with feigned annoyance. “I’ve been good. But it IS killing me!” He shook the package a bit. It felt a little heavy, but not exceptionally so. “So, can I open it now or what?”

Barley gave him a playful smile. “Depends on how horny you are.”

Ian flushed, his eyes widening. “What?! Did you send me a… a-a dick or something?!” He didn’t bother to wait any longer. After propping his phone up against a pillow, he tore open the tape on the box, and unfolded the paper around the package. 

“It’s called a dildo, not a dick.”

Ian stared at the packaged dildo, pale blue and intimidating behind the plastic window. He looked up at the phone, and swallowed. “Barley…”

“Ian...” Barley said, clearly enjoying himself. He was leaning forward, chin propped on his hand. When he spoke, his voice held the silky tone that always made Ian shiver. “I want to watch you ride that. Would you…?”

Ian could feel his pulse pounding hard. He was getting turned on already, just at the sound of Barley’s voice. They’d dirty-talked on regular voice calls before, but nothing like this. Ian had fingered himself and described it, but a toy?!

“You don’t have to,” Barley said, and Ian realized that he’d been quiet for too long. 

“N-No, I… I think that sounds really hot. When do you want me to…?”

“Now,” Barley said immediately. “Please God, please let it be now.”

Ian chuckled nervously, his face hot and ruddy. He swiped his arm over his forehead, wiping away the sweat. The room was warm even with the window cracked. 

“You look so good right now,” Barley said. “Is that my shirt?”

“Yeah, judging from the size, it’s from like… middle school or something.”

“Fff… can you take it off?”

Ian took a breath and peeled off the damp top, encouraged by Barley’s hum of approval. 

“Can you see me alright?” Ian asked.

“No, there’s all this denim in the way,” Barley said.

Rolling his eyes, Ian moved to kneel in front of the phone camera. Never in a million years had he imagined himself doing something like this, not before he and Barley had gotten together. There was just something about that smile, that teasing warmth and unwavering acceptance that made Ian feel like he could do anything.

He unzipped his shorts and raised his hips, sliding them down and then shifting to remove them. Barley groaned, brows together as he looked over Ian, kneeling on his bed in a pair of damp, cotton briefs. Ian was half-hard, and he knew that Barley could tell.

“God,” Barley breathed, “If I were there, I’d pull off those tighties with my teeth.”

Ian felt a twinge of resentment that Barley couldn’t be there. He hadn’t forgotten that it was Barley’s decision to go. He palmed his groin, rocking against his hand to get harder. “Nothing’s stopping you,” Ian said. 

Barley had his hand over his mouth, completely transfixed. Ian slid down his underwear, tossing them off the side of the bed. His heart hammered in his chest as he leaned back against the headboard and spread his legs. 

“Oh fuck,” Barley groaned. “Fuck, fuck…” 

Ian ignored him, leaning to the side to grab a bottle of lube from his nightstand. He slicked his fingers and began to play with himself, stroking and eventually pushing his fingers inside. He started with two, and then eventually he could fit three.

“Since when could you fit so much?” Barley asked. He was shifting around on the screen.

“Since I started missing you,” Ian said. “Are you jerking off?”

“Yeah, obviously,” Barley said, a little breathless. 

Ian grinned and moved onto his knees again. He picked up the toy, turning it over in his hands. It felt heavier now, and looked bigger than it had just minutes ago. “Is this… your size? It’s um, been awhile...”

“Uh… It’s smaller than I am.”

“Smaller…” Ian repeated. He suddenly felt more than a little intimidated. 

“Deep breaths, Babe.”

Ian looked up at the camera quickly. “Babe…?”

“Sorry, is that weird?”

“No,” Ian said, “I like it. So… why couldn’t you get me one that’s actually your size?” 

A lopsided smile formed on Barley’s face. 

“What?!” Ian asked.

Barley’s dark smile had Ian melting. “It’s just… the first time you take that much, I want to do it. I want to be the one to open you up.”

Ian was momentarily speechless. The room felt too hot to breathe. Barley was watching him, biting his lip on the screen. Without answering, Ian took up the lube again and coated the toy. He raised his hips again and positioned it beneath himself, a storm of butterflies lifting off inside. The tip pressed against his hole and Ian tried to relax, easing down onto it. The head pushed inside and he stopped, taking a shaky breath.

“Easy,” Barley coaxed. “Nice and slow.”

Ian nodded without speaking, and let himself sink down, the toy pushing deeper inside.

“Barley,” he whined. He grabbed his leaking prick and gently stroked himself. Being stretched and filled was fuel for his fantasies, and with his eyes shut he could imagine that Barley was there, sprawled out on his back. He could see that smile, and the rise and fall of his broad chest. Ian sunk down lower, taking the toy in deeper. 

Spurred on by his thoughts, Ian raised himself up until only the tip was inside of him, and then slid down again. He began to move in a slow rhythm, riding the toy and softly stroking himself. 

“Do you think about me fucking you?” Barley asked, his voice rough.

“Everyday,” Ian said. “Do you?”

“Of course,” Barley said. “God, Ian, I want to push your knees up to your ears.”

“Oh, j-jeez…” Ian whimpered. He was bouncing on the toy now, no longer taking it easy on his leaking prick. ‘I… ah… I think about being in the shower with you again. I keep thinking about when you pressed up against me, but then I imagine you pushing inside. It hurts but it’s so good. When I felt your cum, it was so warm… I want that again.”

Still riding the toy, Ian opened his eyes. He slowed at the sight of Barley, and the expression on his face. It was as if Barley was seeing something he hadn’t seen before. “Don’t stop,” he commanded. 

Ian listened, his body moving on auto. Perspiration slid down his neck and stomach. The butterflies inside were beating harder. A powerful energy was closing in on him. “B-Barl- ahh!” Ian choked out. And then his body was trembling as pleasure washed over him, pulsing and powerful. His insides tightened around the silicone toy, squeezing it as cum spilled out into his slowing hand. All he could do now was keep himself from falling over. He leaned back against the headboard, panting. 

It was quiet for a moment before Ian shifted and opened his eyes. On his phone screen, Barley’s mouth hung open. Ian reddened and reached for the phone, turning it away. 

“Wha! HEY!” Barley bellowed, his voice muffled from the bedding. “Turn me around!”

Ian carefully removed the toy, shuddering at the sensation of his body trying to clench around nothing. He set it aside and turned the phone around just as he pulled the blanket over his lower half. “Sorry, I just… got self-conscious.” Ian gave him an apologetic smile. “Did you come?”

“Pff, did I? I came before you did.” 

Ian grinned, playing with some of his damp curls. “I need to lie down.”

“Please do,” Barley said, and Ian shifted onto his back, taking deep breaths. 

He moved sideways, once more propping up the phone. Barley was looking at him with a disconcerting intensity. “What is that look on your face?”

Barley laughed, clearly not having realized. “I don’t know, ‘star struck’? Is that a thing?”

“I guess?!” There was a comfortable silence for a while before Ian spoke. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Ian. You have no idea how much.” 

“When is this going to be over?” Ian asked. “It feels like forever.”

“It’s not forever,” Barley said. “I promise. Things are… things are looking up.”

“Are you sure?” Ian asked tentatively. “Because it kind of looks like you’re living in your van.”

Barley rolled his eyes. “I hath chosen this lifestyle, Sir Iandore. It is the lifestyle of one who would rather save thine coins than waste them on some frivolous comforts.”

Ian huffed. “Well, does-ith thou haveth enough to eat-ith?”

Barley snorted, dropping the accent. “Yes! Yes, I am just fine!”

Ian closed his eyes. “Good.”

“You look ready for a nap,” Barley commented. 

“Mmh,” Ian murmured sleepily. “Yeah, maybe. Stay on the line?”

“I’m right here,” Barley assured him. 

A moment later, Ian drifted off.

Tbc.


	14. Hey, Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry to say that this will be the last chapter. Even though it was always supposed to end this way, it still snuck up on me. I’m very sad to say goodbye to this story. Thank you for all of your encouraging comments and love. It means so much to me!

The summer was over. Laurel had insisted on driving Ian four hours to Flamel University, rather than letting him take the bus. There had been hugs and his mother’s teary eyes, and then he waved to her as she drove away. 

This side of campus was as nice as everything else, with pristinely-manicured lawns, and impressive flagstone dormitories. His dorm was on the very edge of campus. Across the street was a well-kept convenience store and an off-campus apartment complex. Beyond that was a tennis court and a public park where he could see people walking their dragons and tossing them frisbees. 

Turning, Ian headed back into the boys’ dorm. He’d already been inside with Laurel, who had insisted on carrying one of his two suitcases. Ian passed the bustle of other students moving in, and couldn’t help noticing how nice everyone looked. Ian wondered if he might look a little rumpled after the long drive, especially compared to the smooth, pressed shirts and slacks of the other boys. Even their luggage looked expensive. His room had a high ceiling and two intricately-carved, wooden beds, and a private bathroom. He blew out a breath, taking it all in.

“Are you Iandor?” a voice said from behind him.

Ian turned to find a small satyr standing behind him, pulling a massive suitcase. “Uh, y-yeah, that’s me. Ian, actually.” He stepped back and the satyr walked in, dragging his suitcase over to the bed on the right. 

“I’m Gregor, or Greg if you want. Good to meet you.” He twisted around and shook Ian’s hand with surprising strength, before lifting his suitcase onto the bed. Ian wanted to help, but it was done before he could offer. Ian opened his mouth, feeling like he should say something, but he was at a loss. Should he ask about Greg’s drive? He was saved, however, by another voice.

“Greg! Look at us, right across the hall!” Ian turned to see a cyclops in a sharp blazer. 

“Nice,” Greg said, still busy opening his suitcase. “Leif with you?”

“Yeah, he’s in our room.” The cyclops twisted around and shouted across the hall for his roommate.

Ian decided to start unpacking. But he did ask, “So you two know each other?” 

“We all went to boarding school together,” Greg said, “The three of us.”

“I’m Rowan,” said the cyclops. 

They exchanged quick pleasantries until the aforementioned roommate appeared, a very tall elf with his hair combed back neatly. “What..” he said flatly, before noticing Ian. The elf’s brows rose as he gave Ian an appraising look. Ian didn’t know what that was, but the scrutiny had him turning back to his suitcase. He pulled out an armful of shirts and went to his closet to hang them. 

Rowan said, “We were just saying we got rooms across the hall.”

“I see,” Leif said. “And who is this?”

“That’s my roommate,” the satyr said, “Ian Lightfoot.”

Ian had to turn around. “Hi.”

Leif nodded in greeting. “So, where’re you from?”

“Uhm, New Mushroomton,” Ian said. 

“Never heard of it,” Leif said, and his friends shook their heads as well.

“It’s South, about a four hour drive,” Ian explained. 

“Yeesh,” Gregor said, pulling his suitcase to the side for Rowan to sit on the bed. Leif leaned against the bedpost. “How come you didn’t just fly? We flew over from the West Coast.”

“I… guess I didn’t think of that.” 

The cyclops and satyr started discussing classes while the elf continued to watch Ian. Trying to avoid that, Ian turned around and finished putting away his clothes, and began setting up his laptop and school books on his desk. With the empty suitcase stored under the bed, he undid the string and packaging protecting his staff. He lifted it up and brought it to the closet.

“What is that?” he heard Leif ask. 

When he turned around, Ian found that all three of the boys were looking his way. “Oh, this? Hah it’s uh… just my-”

“Magic staff?” Leif finished, crossing the room. He took hold of the staff and Ian let go, watching as the other elf examined it. “Huh, I’ve only ever seen these in my father’s collection. He’s a historian. Looks like it suffered some serious damage, but it was fixed up well too.”

“Yeah, it broke,” Ian said lamely, reaching for it. 

Leif handed it back, looking at Ian curiously. But it was Rowan who asked, “Why did you bring a staff to school with you?”

“W-well, I just like to have it with me,” Ian said, getting more nervous. The three boys watched him silently until he elaborated. “...b-because I’m a wizard.”

Gregor finally stopped unpacking, turning his full attention on Ian. “You’re a wizard? As in a ‘magic history buff’? Or are you saying you could, I don’t know, turn me into a frog?”

Ian chuckled, but he felt like he was about to fall into the bottomless pit. “I don’t know about a frog, but I could make you frog-sized.” 

“Could you show us something?” someone said, but Ian didn’t even catch who said it. He was already putting the staff into the back of the closet. 

“I don’t want to make a scene.” Seeing their disappointment, he added, “Uh, but I do have a blog with some videos.”

Ian was starting to regret even bringing his staff with him as his roommate insisted on getting the info for his blog. He busied himself with re-arranging his belongings as the other three boys watched his videos on the satyr’s bed. 

“Holy shit,” Greg murmured as they watched. Ian was now aggressively rearranging things, but he could tell what was happening from the sounds. They were watching him summoning lightning in a large field. And then they were watching as he walked on air across the bottomless pit. 

After another video or two, Leif said, “Who’s that? Your friend?”

Ian heard Barley’s voice in the video, and knew which one it was. Between the time they’d bought the camera in the Rainbow Shack and when Baxter had exposed them, they’d managed to record one spell together and posted it to the blog. 

Ian was about to say that it was his brother, but hesitated. He remembered something Barley had said in a call a few days ago. ‘Don’t tell anyone you have a brother,’ Barley had said. ‘Tell them you have a  _ boyfriend _ . Nobody there will know the truth. And that way when I call or come to visit you, you can hold my hand in front of anyone you want.’

“My boyfriend,” Ian said, and he felt a thrill run through him. He’d never addressed Barley that way to anyone. 

The satyr elbowed Leif and mumbled, “Too bad.” The tall elf reddened and elbowed him much harder. Greg laughed and turned to Ian. “You going to do the long distance thing?”

“Yeah,” Ian said gloomily. 

The cyclops said, “My girl and I just split at the end of the summer. We had a good time but we’re going to be at different schools. Gotta keep our options open.”

Ian didn’t like the sound of that, not in his own case at least. “We’ve already been doing the long distance thing for a while,” Ian said, picking at the cuff of his sleeve. “My mom… um… doesn’t approve. So we can’t hang out much.” 

“I bet,” Greg said, looking at Barley in the paused video. “This guy looks like a badass.” Ian snorted. If only they knew. “So, you hungry? We’re heading to the dining hall in a bit.”

“Oh, sure,” Ian said to his roommate. 

After a little more room-arranging, the four of them set off. They weren’t outside for more than a minute before Ian received a text. He checked his phone and saw that it was from Barley.

‘What’s all this?    
U got 3 new boyfriends on the first day??’

Ian stopped short. Barley could see him? He started looking around, turning frantically. 

“You okay?” Leif asked. 

“Yeah I just…” Ian pocketed his phone, continuing to search. And then he saw it, Guenivere II parked at the apartment complex across the street. And on the first floor, Barley was sitting on one of the porches with his legs crossed. 

“Barley?!” Ian cried. And then he was running full speed. He ran across the campus lawn toward him. His brother stood and started in his direction. Ian ran into the street, and saw Barley’s eyes widen in horror. 

Ian was met with the deafening sound of a car horn in his ear. The car was coming straight at him, its wheels suddenly screeching as the driver hit the brake. Ian stumbled to the asphalt in surprise. The car slid at an angle and then stopped, just inches from him. He could feel the heat from the engine. 

“Ian!” Barley shouted, running into the road. He grabbed Ian by the upper arms, lifting him to his feet. The driver shouted something about watching where he walked before speeding off again. Ian’s legs were shaking, and Barley pulled him to the side of the road. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

But Ian was already beaming. Adrenaline was still coursing through him from the close call, but his attention was completely on Barley. “What are you doing here?”

“Ian! Are. You. Okay?!” Barley was still looking him over. His jeans had ripped at the knee, but he was otherwise unharmed. 

From across the street, someone called out, “Is he okay?”

Ian glanced behind him. It was his roommate and the others. He waved them off, smiling. “I’m okay, I’ll catch up with you later.” And that was all the attention he could afford to spare, because Barley was here. He looked at Barley and said. “I’m fine. Really! What are you doing here?”

Ian put his hands on Barley’s face, making his older brother smile. Barley said, “I live here. Right over there.” He pointed behind him at the apartment where he’d been sitting. 

“You live…” Ian looked at the apartment and then at the dormitory behind him. “You live across the street from me…”

“Surprise,” Barley said lightly.

Ian blinked back tears until his face crumpled and he buried it in Barley’s shirt. He wrapped his arms around his brother’s broad middle, holding onto him tightly. Familiar fingers stroked through Ian’s curls. A scruffy jaw brushed his cheek as Barley kissed his temple. 

“I went to the city for a while,” Barley murmured. “Stayed with a friend, made some connections. I got started on that narrating gig, I don’t know if you remember-”

“Of course I remember,” Ian said into Barley’s shirt.

“Ah, yeah I guess you woul-”

But Ian cut him off, pulling him in for a kiss. It was long and lingering. Barley wrapped his arms around Ian, lifting him right off his feet. Ian grinned against Barley’s mouth, swinging his dangling feet.

A neighbor cleared their throat as they passed. Barley set Ian down on his feet and said, “I guess we shouldn't stand in the parking lot forever. Do you want to come in?”

“Yeah definitely!” Ian said. He took Barley’s hand tightly, as if he’d disappear otherwise. They went to Barley’s little porch and through the sliding glass door. 

“Home sweet home,” Barley said, kicking off his shoes. 

Ian took a precursory glance around the room. It was little, with just a few pieces of banged-up furniture. There were several boxes from the van, as if Barley hadn’t been here long. On the far end was a kitchen where Barley went and opened the fridge. “Do you want something to drink? Peach tea?”

Ian had wandered past the door to the bathroom and into the bedroom. There was a dresser and a closet with a tall, mounted mirror. There was a nightstand with a lamp, and a very large bed. Barley’s blankets were strewn around and half on the floor, his pillows propped at odd angles. Ian went to the window and closed the sheer curtain. 

In the kitchen, Barley settled on iced tea for his brother, something he knew he liked. He poured him a glass and looked around. “I’ve got your drink,” he called out, and started for the bedroom. It was the only place where Ian could have been. He walked in and found Ian standing with his back to him, shrugging his shirt down off his shoulders. The red plaid slipped down his arms and dropped to the floor. 

Barley stood there dumbly as Ian turned and walked to him. Ian took the drink from his hand and set it on the dresser. Ian gripped handfuls of Barley’s black tshirt, and Barley ran his hands along Ian’s bare skin. And then they were kissing. Ian started to pull at Barley’s vest, which he shrugged out of and tossed aside. Next Ian was pulling up his shirt with feverish need. Barley dragged Ian in, and the press of warm skin on skin was pure heaven. 

“Barley,” Ian breathed, “No more ‘patient big brother’, okay? I need you to fuck me right now.”

“Y-Yeah, I think it might kill me if I don’t.” 

Ian laughed breathily and they were on each other again, lips and teeth and fumbling hands. Ian backed up to the bed and climbed onto it just as Barley undid his fly, and pulled Ian’s jeans and underwear off together. Ian leaned forward and undid Barley’s shorts, and did the same. Barley’s half-hard cock had Ian’s eyes like saucers. “I forgot…” he said. And then he smiled, taking it in hand. He was heavy, and he could feel the piercings on the underside. Ian parted his lips and began to suck at the tip, intent on stroking and sucking him to full mast. But Barley tugged at his hair so that only Ian’s tongue could reach. 

“Ah, that’s a bad idea,” Barley said, his voice strained. “I’ll finish in three minutes. I’ve thought about it way too much.” 

“Okay,” Ian chuckled. He relented, letting go and crawling back onto the bed. The sheets were soft and the pillows smelled like Barley. And the best part was Barley himself, big and perfect, strong arms caging him on either side as he rested on his elbows. Ian glanced at the phoenix gem tattooed on his chest, and leaned in to kiss it, shivering as Barley sucked on the tip of his ear. 

“You know, I wasn’t sure if I liked this bed,” Barley murmured. “But it feels kinda nice with you in it.”

“Well, I’ll just have to stay here a lot,” Ian said. 

“You’d better.” And then he reached for the night stand drawer and retrieved a small, full bottle of lube. Ian’s heart sped up as he watched Barley coat his fingers and then slick the crease of Ian’s rear. Barley leaned on one elbow and nuzzled Ian’s face as he pushed two fingers into him. 

“Ohh,” Ian breathed. He’d used the toy nearly every time he got off these days, but nothing was better than Barley’s touch. He felt the thick fingers spread apart inside him, pushing deeper and rubbing against something that sent a chill through him. 

“More,” Ian murmured. Barley complied, sliding two fingers out and then pushing in three. “Ah, yeah…” Ian rocked against him, hooking his leg over Barley’s side. Barley released a breath, clearly engrossed as he played with him. “Okay, come on,” Ian urged, gently pushing at Barley’s arm until he pulled his fingers out. 

Ian watched as Barley picked up the lube again, fumbling with slippery fingers until he dropped it off the edge of the bed. Ian smiled when he realized that Barley was nervous. When he’d finally retrieved the bottle, Ian took it from him. He poured some out and slicked Barley’s length, listening with satisfaction to his sharp intake of breath. Ian circled the studs with his thumb, fascinated. 

He lied back and Barley moved over him, and Ian held his breath as it pushed inside. Even after experience with the toy, even with the prep, it hurt. Ian gritted his teeth as he felt it himself getting stretched taut. 

“Breathe, Baby,” Barley whispered into his ear. Ian opened his mouth, trying to breathe, trying to relax. 

“I-I’m breathing…” Ian felt Barley slow to a stop. He asked, “Did I take it?”

Barley chuckled. He took Ian’s hand and guided it between them. Ian’s fingers pressed against the seam where they were connected. He felt so stretched. And then he felt how many inches he hadn’t yet taken. 

“Oh man…”

Barley kissed his cheek and eased out of him again, until he’d almost completely pulled away. Ian felt the pressure ease up and then felt Barley’s hips rock against him. Ian was being filled again, and his mouth fell open as Barley pushed deeper. 

“Ah..!” Ian whimpered as each of the studs pushed inside. Ian writhed beneath him, feeling small and immensely full. There was no question that he’d just taken it all. 

“You did it,” Barley teased, and Ian gave a strained laugh. But he couldn’t find actual words, much less a clever comeback. He clenched around the thick intrusion and Barley groaned. “Fuck, Ian…”

“Do I feel good?” Ian managed to ask. 

“God yes. Do you… like having me inside you?”

Ian blushed. Only a few months ago, his desires had been his biggest shame. He’d never planned to tell Barley. He’d never expected anything. He was going to die with his secret. But now? Barley had moved mountains for them to be together, and was giving Ian all of his love. 

“You have no idea.”

Barley pulled out and pushed in again. Once again the studs made Ian yelp with surprise. It was so much. But after a few thrusts he got used to it. Barley lifted himself up, looking down between them as he moved in and out. Ian glanced down to see what he was looking at, and watched as a bulge appeared in his lower tummy each time Barley filled him. 

“Oh m-my God,” Ian breathed.

Barley’s gaze slid upward to meet Ian’s, heated and hungry. He grabbed Ian’s wrists and pinned them down. Ian gasped as Barley thrust harder and faster. He cried out as he was pounded, the bed knocking against the wall with each thrust. 

“I-I’m gonna…” Ian warned.

“Not yet,” Barley said before pulling out. “Turn over.” But Ian barely had time to respond before Barley was doing it for him. Strong arms lifted him up and turned him over, repositioning them. Barley was kneeling on the bed now, with Ian sitting up in his lap, facing away from him. 

“Ohh no. No no,” Ian said, when he realized what was going on. Barley had faced Ian toward the tall mirror on the closet door, where he could see himself and Barley’s pleased expression. 

“Oh yes,” Barley said, taking hold of Ian’s thighs and spreading them. “I want you to watch.”

Still, Barley waited. Ian made a little whine of protest before nodding in assent. Barley helped lift his hips and Ian watched as his brother’s cock pushed into him once more. He could see and feel each stud slide inside, watching his pink hole stretch to accommodate Barley’s thickness. And that bulge! Barley was beginning to move again, lifting him up with each stroke like it was nothing. Ian had hated the idea of the mirror, but now he couldn’t look away.

“Ohh, B-Barley that’s good, it’s… ahhh….”

“Yeah baby,” Barley murmured against his neck, kissing and sucking. “You’re so sweet. So tight.”

Barley’s hold on him tightened as he began to fuck him harder. 

“Ngh! I n-need to come,” Ian begged. “I need to…”

“Yes, come for me,” Barley growled, bitting Ian’s tantalizing, pink ear. One of his hands moved to Ian’s aching prick, stroking him fast and hard. In seconds Ian cried out, his head falling back on Barley’s shoulder as he came. The ear slipped out of Barley’s mouth as he gasped. “Oh God, fuck!” Barley choked, feeling Ian’s body clench hard around him. Barley bucked into him a few times more until Ian felt him twitching, hot cum pumping inside him. 

They were still for a moment, until Ian melted back against him, boneless. Barley was kissing his neck, his broad chest rising and falling against Ian’s back. Barley was gentle as he pulled out. Ian felt his brother’s cum dripping down his thigh, but he was too tired to care. They shifted around and tossed a soiled top sheet onto the floor before lying down together. 

Ian noticed Barley examining his own hand, and realized that it still had Ian’s cum on it. 

“Want the sheet?” Ian asked, ready to grab it.

“Nah,” Barley said, and began sucking his fingers clean. 

Ian was torn between how sexy and utterly mortifying the sight was, and turned sideways to bury his face against Barley’s chest. He smelled of sweat and body spray, which was wonderfully familiar. When Ian shivered, Barley pulled the blanket over them, and held him close. Ian rested his head on Barley’s arm, smiling sleepily as his forehead received scratchy kisses.

After a while Barley asked, “How’re ya feeling?”

“Amazing.”

“Hah.. uh, I meant, are you hurting at all?”

Ian blinked. “Oh, well yeah, I’m a little sore. I don’t think we could get around that.”

“Mm,” Barley murmured. 

“But I really do feel amazing,” Ian said, moving. He climbed up on top of Barley, folding his arms on his chest. Barley folded one arm behind himself to rest his head on, while the other traced lines along Ian’s vertebrae. 

“I’m glad,” Barley said gently. “I’m relieved, actually. I know you… I mean, I know you want to be with me, but I also know how you feel about school. I don’t want to get in the way.” 

Ian grinned. “Are you kidding? This is like…” Ian just made a silly, happy face, and Barley rolled his eyes. 

“Look man, I’ve thought about this a lot. I still want you to get the college experience like I did. If you want to hang out with your friends on campus until three AM, then you don’t have to worry about me. If you want to stay in your dorm room or study alone, don’t feel guilty about it.” Ian made a face, clearly unsure about all of that. But Barley grabbed his cheeks with one hand, squeezing until Ian made pouty lips. “You got that, Iandore?”

Ian pulled free and sighed. “Yeah, yeah. But what about you? I don’t want you to be alone here.”

“Psh, have you met me?” Barley grinned. “I already have friends in town. And anyway, I’ll need the place to be quiet sometimes for recording. It all works out.”

“Yeah, I guess it does,” Ian admitted. 

They lied there for a while, talking and catching up. Even with video chatting nearly every day, there was something so much better about saying it in person. Eventually the topics grew more serious. Barley looked sad, and Ian said, “You miss Mom, don’t you?”

Barley’s ears drooped. “Yeah…”

“Well, she misses you too,” Ian said. When Barley looked at him, Ian continued. “In case you forgot, we’re Mom’s two favorite people. Come on, Barley, wake up. There are moms who visit their kids in prison. So what if we got a little weird? She loves you!” Ian’s heart felt heavy when he saw Barley bite his lip, eyes glassy. Barley had always been the strong one, the one to lift Ian up and support him. For once, Ian wanted to be the one to make Barley feel hopeful. He leaned in and kissed his brother’s forehead, sweeping his fingers through his dark blue hair. “No matter what, we’ll figure things out. Even if we have to move across the world and change our names! It’s me and you, okay?”

“Okay,” Barley said, his tone vulnerable. Barley wasn’t one to say ‘I love you’ as much as Ian was. But it was moments like these when a look was all Ian needed. Because Barley looked at him as if Ian was his whole world. 

“Alright,” Barley finally said, “Even your skinny bones are starting to get heavy.”

“Pff, fine,” Ian said, sliding off of him. “You better get used to it though, because I’m topping next time.” Ian looked at Barley with a huge grin, waiting for his response to the joke. 

But when Barley turned on his side to face him, he looked… impressed. Barley said, “Hey, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Ian flushed scarlet. “I w-was just kidding. You’d really want me to…?”

Barley grinned as if he were having the time of his life. “You really have no idea, do you? I’ll try just about anything you’re up for.” 

Ian just stared at him. “Wow.”

“But there’s only one thing I’m up for now,” he said as he sat up, looking around the floor and reaching for his underwear. “And that is getting some food. There’s a great diner down the block.”

Ian felt his stomach growl. “Yeah, that sounds pretty perfect right now. And hey, maybe later you’d want to see my dorm?”

“Hell yeah!”

“And meet my new friends? It’s kinda nice having a boyfriend to show off.”

Ian self-indulgently watched Barley as he zipped up his fly, his gaze sweeping over his brother’s curves and tattoos, and his strong arms as he pulled his black t-shirt over his head. Barley brushed the front of the shirt flat and then reached for his vest. “Sure, sure, I’ll be your arm candy. Now get dressed before I have to get the towel.”

Ian was up in an instant, not about to suffer the humiliation of being chased naked around the apartment while Barley towel-snapped him. He was halfway done pulling up his fitted jeans when Barley pulled him into a bone-cracking hug. 

“Oof! Barley, my pants…” 

Barley kissed his cheek and then Ian turned, and Barley kissed his lips. Ian melted, forgetting about the pants as he reached up to hold onto his brother. “What?”

“Nothing,” Barley said. “You’re just cute. Now hurry up. Adventure waits for no one!”

“Hey, I’m trying to get dressed!” Ian protested as Barley released him. “You’re the one who- hey!” But Ian couldn’t finish, because Barley was already leaving the room. Ian finished putting on his pants and grabbed his shirt, hurrying after him.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how you liked it! And thank you again!


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